Chasing Shadows
by astrovagant
Summary: In which revenge is only a means to an end, fate is strange, affairs between the Worlds are even stranger still, and King Enma Junior makes a very important decision. It isn't over yet. (YGO/YYH/HP crossover, a repost of the original Chasing Shadows that can be found on this account due to heavy editing.)
1. Requiem

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.**

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><p><strong>.~.~.<strong>

_**requiem (n.)**_

_a solemn chant (as a dirge) for the repose of the dead_

**.~.~.**

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><p>Questions arose.<p>

Where was he?

Why was he here?

How did he get to where he was?

When did he arrive?

He didn't understand and so he did what any rational human being would do in his situation: he observed his surroundings.

It was hot; the wind chapped his lips and mussed his hair about and the only reprieve was the surprisingly cool sand beneath him. In retrospect it made sense- it was a pale gold. Light colors reflected and dark colors absorbed. (He could thank school for teaching him that.)

Which brought him back to the heat. The bright sun was beating down and that there was no way of escaping it—wherever he was had no trees and he couldn't find shade anywhere nearby. There was nothing but sand dunes for what seemed to be miles.

He was alone.

And yet… for the first time in a very long time, he wasn't afraid. Not of the fact that he'd probably collapse from heat exhaustion if he didn't find water, the fact that he had no idea where he was, or even of the fact that he was alone. Deep within his core there was a wild, primordial instinct that told him he should be afraid; and not only that he should've be afraid; that he should've been terrified...

But he wasn't. It all seemed very far away. There were bigger things to worry about, though he didn't actually know what these bigger things were. He kept walking.

He kept walking despite the fact that his fair skin was burning and despite the growing sense of foreboding within him, the feeling telling him that if he didn't stop he would be in danger. (_He couldn't stop he wouldn't stop he wouldn't run away. Not again. He had to keep moving forward. He had to_.)

How else was he supposed to save himself?

Running away had never helped him before. It just made everything worse. It _always_ made everything worse.

But soon the slight burn of the sun became hard to ignore. It grew and magnified and and spread and soon his entire body was on fire, soon his body was being ripped apart and destroyed—all at once.

He couldn't keep walking.

.

Bakura Ryou awoke with a gasp and the sound of his heartbeat drumming much too fast in his ears.

**.~.~.**

It was quiet, it was dark.

One would think that he would be used to this desolation, but it had been a long time since he had truly been alone for the Shadows were never silent, never desolate. It wasn't in their nature. They were disquiet. They were judgement embodied, they were fear and darkness. They were anything but quiet. They were anything but peaceful.

This was silence that was devoid of anything. This was emptiness.

It was suffocating. It made him remember things that he wanted to forget and memories that he'd buried a long time ago under the sand of the Sahara Desert...

_The atmosphere was thick with acrid smoke, the metallic smell that could only be blood, and the stench of smoke__, of __burning flesh. Screams resounded throughout the air__. All__ that he could do was watch in horror, petrified, as his world fell into pieces before his very eyes._

_(After the burns had healed and he could move freely once more the child who would soon become the terror known as Thief King Bakura__ could only resolve to do one thing: get revenge on the people who slaughtered his village; his friends, his family. Even if it meant losing his soul, committing heresy. He would kill the Pharoah, no matter what the cost. He would get revenge._ _He had absolutely nothing left to lose__)..._

_...__The sun was hot against his skin and his throat burned with a horrible thirst. The ropes around his ankles and his wrists were tied tightly- too tightly- he could feel his fingers going numb. His limbs were sore from walking and he felt empty in more ways than one._

_How long had he been walking with these too-tight ropes? How long had he been captured for?_

_He didn't know and his perception of time had been left behind hours before along with his hydration. But he did know one thing and one very important thing at that– with every step that he took, he got closer and closer to the palace, closer and closer to exacting the thing that he'd been dreaming of and training for years upon years._

_He could almost taste it now; his revenge. It was in his arm's reach…_

… _But he knew that he couldn't do it alone._

_He needed help and he knew just where to turn. This being, this savior of his was something of an expert with things such as these; of lying and stealing… and of murder as well. This being knew much more than he did._

_It was the perfect partnership.__This creature, this Demon, would help him exact the very thing that he had dreamed of… but only in exchange for something precious, something that he would never get back._

_His soul._

_H__e didn't mind the fact that his soul would soon be __lost forever__. If this was the only thing that Zorc would take, the only thing that Zorc would accept as payment, then he would gladly give it away._

_He had nothing else to lose, after all._

_And so the Thief called for __him__, this Demon of Demons. He closed his eyes and called for __him__; begging and cajoling, offering his everything. This was the moment that he had been waiting for._

_His world was engulfed in Shadows.__.._

Everything else was bits and pieces; fleeting, formlessHalf-formed thoughts and unfinished sentences here and there, brief glimpses of destruction.

He'd never managed his goal. All that he'd manage to do was continue the cycle. All he'd managed to do was destroy the lives of countless others in his quest for something as elusive as darkness itself.

And he hated himself for it.

Hate. Hate was a familiar feeling to him. It was what had gotten him into this situation. It was what he felt for the Pharoah, for Zorc. He hated and hated and hated.

(But he mostly hated himself for what he had done.)

A new feeling emerged behind the hatred. It engulfed him like the flames of all those centuries ago...

_No, wait_.

He'd felt this before. When he'd stolen for the first time, when his mother had caught him sneaking out to play before he'd finished his chores…

_**Guilt.**_

A very official-looking paper was stamped, a door was slammed, and King Enma Junior made an extremely important decision.

**And thus our story begins…**

**.~.~.**

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><p><strong>Story Notes:<strong>

**For YGO:**

**This story is set post-canon. Assuming that YGO began in June 1994 and ended in August 1995, this story begins 10 months after, in May- June 1996.**

**For YYH:**

**This story is set post-canon as well. Assuming that YYH began in May of 1993 and ended in May 1995, this story begins around 11-12 months after it ends.**

**For HP:**

**This story is an AU of book six, which is where we diverge onward from canon. It begins in the summer in between book five and book six, after all of the students have come home for vacation blah blah blaaaaah. There may be some similarities, but I'll try my best to not recycle materials since most of the people reading this have probably already read the entirety of HP.**

**I want to give credit to an abundance of authors who inspire me greatly and have given me numerous ideas for this story with their own fantastic writing. These also double as fanfic recs, in case anyone was interested in readin' some YGO/HP or YYH/HP fanfiction.**

**Thank you:**

**Phate Phoenix (The Difference Between Shadows and Darkness)**

**Lethotep (Shadow Balance),**

**JoIsBishMyoga (The Best Defense and A Great Offense),**

**Out-Of-Control-Authoress (No Strings Attached, Blood Bound),**

**JewelValentine (A Crossing of the Ways),**

**and**

**S. Lawliet (who's story name I can't remember at the moment but who still deserves much credit and many thank yous for being a great writer with original ideas)**

**Please, give theses authors some love for me, as they're the reason this story even exists. Without these people's writing this work would've never been written.**

**.**

**Author's Notes:**

**This is my repost of Chasing Shadows. V1 can be found on my account, and I will not be deleting it. I feel as though a fresh start will be good for this story, and I hope that everyone enjoys. Constructive criticism is appreciated, but please be gentle for I am far too sensitive.**

**Please review, even if it's just a word or two,**

**-starisfairy (Edited 8/5/14)**


	2. Chapter I

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing.**

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><p><strong>.~.~.<strong>

**I.**

**.~.~.**

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><p>This wasn't what the Zorc had planned; not for the Pharaoh to correct the course of fate, nor for the Pharaoh's friends to follow him.<p>

He certainly hadn't planned for his vessel to be destroyed in the crossfire. It had only been a game, after all; he'd worked so hard on cultivating the Thief's soul, pruning and preening over it and priming it for his takeover.

He would have to find a new vessel.

The Thief was spent, anyway. A broken toy. It had only been a matter of time. Souls were easily broken.

After all, what could possibly more fragile than a human soul?

Zorc himself felt lucky to not be burdened with something more breakable than the porcelain humans cherished so deeply. It must've be exhausting to feel the way that they seemed to have to in order to survive.

But it was still a pity that the Thief's soul had been spent before the contract had been fulfilled. He'd have much liked to have consumed him entirely, that perfectly cultivated soul. He'd worked so hard on it, filling it with hatred and fear and grief. The Thief was, because of this, the ultimate delicacy, the caviar of contractual demon snacks.

Oh, he was hungry, so hungry. Starving.

He wanted more.

But for now? He needed to latch onto something that could conceal him. Escaping from the World of Spirits was not a simple task. But luckily he wasn't a spirit. He wasn't like those pathetically weak Demons created in the depths of Demon World, not anymore. He was the shadows. He was more than any of them would ever be.

He ripped a hole in reality, that weak fabric of creation, and climbed right through it.

Chaos followed him to freedom as it always had, as it was meant to. At last he was free to eat, to devour, to destroy.

He'd never felt so alive.

**.~.~.**

It was a dark and stormy night.

The rain sounded like war on his window, gunshots and cannons, but he couldn't hear it. The war inside of him was too strong and too scary and it was _enough_.

His hands were trembling. His layout didn't make sense. His cards didn't make sense. His cards always made sense. Always. Even when he didn't want them to.

He needed a second point of reference. He stood up. He felt unsteady on his feet. Why?

Oh. It wasn't just his hands that were trembling. He grabbed the chair that he had just been sitting on to steady himself before going on his way.

Where was it?

The book. He hadn't read it in four years because he'd memorized it when he was thirteen- it had been his everything when Amane and mother had died. Where was it?

Under his bed. It was in a box with his old tarot deck, the one that had ripped cards and colorful squiggles from when Amane hadn't listened and had used the drawings as something to color on- he'd been so upset.

There it was. _Behind the Cards, _by Sybil Trelawney.

It was worn and familiar and there were scribbles on some of the pages because it had been his mother's and, before he'd known himself that the book was sacred, he'd been as bad as Amane with coloring on the pages. Just holding it in his hands made the shaking calm, if only somewhat. This would have his answers. It had to; his cards always made sense, even when he didn't want them to. Always.

But when he sat down at his desk and started reading, it didn't give him the answers that he was looking for, nor the comfort. It just gave him more questions.

Maybe, just maybe, he didn't want to know the answers.

**.~.~.**

Number Twelve Grimmauld place was not and would never be a cheerful place. It was too dark, too dreary. The decorations were cold and impersonal, and the entire place had a malicious air to it, despite all of Mrs. Weasley's pruning and straightening and generally attempts at making the place _brighter_.

It was even worse after its owner's death.

Sirius Black had been a good man... and a wonderful friend. It was difficult to know that all of his suffering had been for nothing.

All they could do was wait for this war to be over. All they could hope for some sort of peace, of happiness. All they could hope for was universal freedom. (But freedom was never universal, was it?)

After all, that was what had Sirius wanted, wasn't it? But at what cost? At what length would they go to to attain this freedom?

They were a resistance, they were good. _They were the Order of the Phoenix_...

And they refused to be any less than that.

"But, Albus... they are from Japan! I don't mean to be presumptuous, but you of all people know how dangerous these people are-"

"I am fully aware of that, Minerva, but I am afraid that we must allow them back into our ranks. Signing the treaty is the only way that we may find unity within this torn society." Albus Dumbledore replied diplomatically. His expression was grave and serious – an emotion that wasn't particularly common in him with his normally cheerful disposition.

"But surely you remember the stories? The Japanese Traditionalists are unstable in their magic. This could result in disaster!" Minerva McGonagall exclaimed.

"Perhaps, but it could also result in less casualties."

Albus Dumbledore then looked toward the rest of the Order expectantly, "Do any of you have any questions?"

The room was tense, and full of questions, but no one said a word.

And so Dumbledore looked at them, his normally twinkling and happy eyes still unnervingly serious, "The recruits arrive in a month. Preparation is crucial if we want to go smoothly. I trust that you will make them feel comfortable?" the questions concealed a warning, and it was quite clear what it meant. If the Traditionalists were coming, then they had to tread very carefully.

After all, the Japanese Traditionalists were a dangerous magical sect. They had to be regarded as such.

Not that the Ishtar Clan was any better.

**.~.~.**

A flash of light pierced through the darkness. Looking at something so pure and so clean burned after what felt like an eternity in this place.

"You are the former King of Thieves, also known as one-half of the being known as Bakura of Darkness, correct?"

He couldn't answer. The light was too bright and pure and he was so _small_ compared to the being before him, compared to the light.

But it dimmed with time. There was a young and human man before him, or what looked like a young human man. His eyes were ageless.

_Who are you?_

The godly being before him locked eyes with the thief, his gaze piercing,"I go by many names, including Ancient Egypt's Anubis, but you may call me Prince Enma. I am here to offer you a deal."

And then the light returned stronger and purer than ever. This time, it left nothing in its wake.

**.~.~.**

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Hi, hey, hello. I already have 9 chapters and a prologue's worth of material ready to post, so I thought I'd post a double update. Enjoy, and please review if you have the time. :)**

**~starisfairy (Edited 8/5/14)**


	3. Chapter II

****Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.****

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><p><strong>.~.~.<strong>

**II.**

**.~.~.**

_**Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.**_

Ryou glanced up at the wall clock near the teacher's desk and frowned, trying to tune it out. It was a worthless effort, but it was one that he couldn't help but try.

He let out a suppressed sigh and tried to focus on the notebook lying before him. It was thin and spiral bound, with a black cover and a boring, generic brand name written on it...

He was supposed to be taking notes.

Setting his pencil to paper, he began copying the writing on the board, his usually neat handwriting just a tad shaky- despite the fact that he was gripping his pencil tightly in an effort to make it more legible. Throughout his life, it had been likened to computer script in its tidiness, but now- well, it could hardly be called refined. It frustrated him, but, really, there was nothing that he could do about it.

He had thought that he'd be able to sleep off the feeling of everything not being quite right within him, that it was just a bug; probably a virus or a product of his ever-persistent insomnia... or maybe even both.

He'd been wrong.

Instead, his health only declined further over the weeks; months, really. It seemed that, ever since that dream... but no, it was impossible that a mere nightmare could have anything to do with a physical illness, wasn't it?

He wasn't sure anymore.

All he really knew was that, sometimes, it was a miracle that he could read a sentence of his assigned work without vision blurring and his mind wandering off into the distance, that he could stay awake long enough to even make it through school without dozing off in the middle of Calculus.

It was a wonder that his grades were still some of the best in his year.

But, of course, it came at a price.

He'd had to cut his work hours by more than half in order to accommodate his new sleeping schedule and his swiftly accumulating pile of homework, and it seemed as if his employers were considering letting him go. Apparently, he was becoming a liability – looking as though you're about to collapse at any moment is, evidently, not something that customers enjoyed witnessing – even when you try your best to hide it.

He didn't blame them, of course – he knew that there was something wrong. He just wished that he knew what-

The school bell rang, a loud, overwhelming sound. Ryou jumped.

He cursed himself for not paying attention yet again, looking down at the- still empty- sheet of paper that he was supposed to be filling with notes. Slowly, he began to pack his books away, stacking them all into his briefcase as neatly as possible. He was in no hurry, unlike the majority of the students in his class, so he waited patiently as they all rushed towards the door, eager to get outside, to feel the sun and to socialize with one another.

He was still trying to gather the energy to get up.

Once the class was halfway empty, he eased himself out of his chair, feeling a wave of vertigo as he stood. He tried his best not to sway, instead putting on hand onto his desk for balance as he leaned over to pick up his briefcase.

Feeling as though someone was watching him, he glanced over his shoulder, noticing Anzu giving him a look of concern. Looking away immediately, he checked for any leftover textbooks underneath his desk before closing his bookbag and straightening his uniform.

He didn't want to be confronted by her at the moment, or by anyone for that matter. He'd been putting it off for as long as possible, refraining from giving anyone any openings. It was better this way, really. He knew this.

He just wished that it weren't so lonely.

Just as he reached the door leading to the halls of Domino High School, he was stopped by a soft but assertive, "Bakura-_kun_, I need to speak to you for a moment."

It was his teacher.

He looked over towards her, locking eyes with her as she gestured for him to take a seat on the chair across from her desk. He did so, fidgeting slightly in his seat and taking inventory of the items on the surface.

A wave of anxiety overcame him. Was this about his grades? About the days that he missed school? He tried not to, but sometimes- sometimes he just couldn't make it. He was getting better at managing his sleeping, he was learning to cope over time, but... surely, the administration had noticed by now. After all, it had been months- and things definitely weren't getting any better.

Abe-sensei was a petite and very kind-looking woman. Her voice was calming, and she had a pleasant disposition. But this did nothing to ease Ryou's anxiety.

She sat patiently, grading papers as she seemingly waited for the rest of the students to file out of the room. Once they did so, she continued to look over her papers for a few seconds, checking to see if everything was in order.

And then she looked up at him, smiling in her gentle, kind way. He returned the gesture uneasily, trying not to fidget with her eyes on him.

"Tell me, Bakura_-kun_. Are you well?"

Ryou kept his face impassive, "Of course, Abe-sensei." he then smiled in his own charming way-an attempt to derail her. He knew where she was going, and he was not pleased about it in the least.

And so he decided to do what he did best- continue to lie through his teeth, "I just haven't been sleeping enough, that's all."

"Oh, and why is that?" Abe-sensei still didn't seem to buy his excuse, even though she was still smiling pleasantly. Maybe, just maybe- she was more perceptive than most of the people he dealt with. Or maybe she just cared that much.

But either way, this was going to be harder than he'd expected.

Oh, well, he was always up to the challenge of lying. He was quite good at it, and one might even venture to say that he was a professional liar. Perhaps it wasn't the best thing to be a professional at, but throughout his life it had done him some good.

"I just have a lot of bad dreams is all. It isn't too big of a deal." he kept his trademark smile pasted on his face, despite the fact that it felt rubbery and fake and so very flimsy. It had worked in the past, and it would work now.

Abe-sensei was not impressed.

Please, oh please, just let it rest there, he begged silently, feeling a bit desperate now. He may have been good at lying, but he certainly didn't like it – and it certainly wasn't something that he was proud of. Lying hurt. It hurt him and it hurt others and he hated it. He hated lying.

But it was something that he seemed to always have to do.

"Bakura-_kun,_ if it were just bad dreams then I wouldn't have called you in at the end of class."

"Really?" Ryou questioned dazedly, unable, suddenly, to think of anything else. He was just so tired, his bed was calling to him...

The teacher sighed, giving him a look of near pity before answering, "You don't have to tell me, but I worry about my students. You are at the top of your class, Bakura-_kun_, and if there is anything, anything at all that you can tell me... I'd be greatly obliged."

Ryou's facade crumbled for a moment- only a moment, but he cursed himself silently, knowing that it was just long enough for the teacher to see just how tired he was. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"I'm just... just a bit under the weather as of late. I'm dealing with it." he said honestly, avoiding her gaze and wishing with all of his soul that he were somewhere else, somewhere very, very far away- preferably in his bed.

Abe Hisako smiled, a true, genuine smile this time, before she stated kindly, "Well, if anything comes up? Don't hesitate to tell me."

Ryou forced a weak smile, forcing himself to stand up before bowing, "Thank you, Abe-sensei."

She grinned, "Goodbye, Bakura-_kun_. I'll see you tomorrow afternoon."

He returned her courtesy clumsily, his limbs trembling slightly as he left the room as fast as his body would allow him to.

Sleep awaited, and for now, that was all that mattered.

**.~.~.**

The world of Spirits was a busy place. The best thing to compare it to would be a multi-million dollar company- but without the employee benefits, the insurance, the breakroom, and, of course, the vacations.

No, there was no time for vacations of any sort in Spirit World's central headquarters, what with all that had to be done. Really, running a dimension was difficult enough without having to deal with numerous souls from various alternate dimensions, with each world just as important to the balance of the universe as the next.

And of course, Reikai also had very strict laws, laws that were quite significant to the safety of not only one world, but three. The laws were quite rigid and very important to the function of the Spirit World, and breaking even one of them was considered quite unacceptable.

However, creating an unauthorized inter-dimensional portal was not only breaking a good number of these guidelines, it was also considered a universal emergency, one that was treated with great caution.

The fact that Urameshi Yusuke, a known threat to Reikai, was the one that created this portal? Well, that was even worse.

Yusuke's rather dramatic entrance was not met with a positive response. Indeed, the response to this particular escapade would be a story told for years to come, and it would give the Oni who had witnessed it nightmares for just as long – if not longer.

After all, Urameshi Yusuke was no longer considered a benevolent force, even to the people that had watched him grow into his substantial abilities years previously. He was now a Demon, and Demons were not to be trusted under any circumstances. Especially one as powerful and influential as he was.

And Demon Lords? They were most definitely not welcome, especially if they were alive, more powerful than ever, and angry.

Yusuke was both of these things.

No one involved was pleased, and the Spirit Defense Force displayed this displeasure more than anyone else – but even they found the idea of fighting him off daunting given the rather... malevolent aura that was coming off of Yusuke's body in waves.

From an outsider's point of view, it would appear to be most terrifying – but anyone that truly knew Yusuke knew that he really was a rather gentle spirit, even if he wasn't very good at showing it.

Yes, Yusuke was a very_ kind_ boy, despite how intimidating he appeared to be at first glance. But that side of him was not something that he would ever show willingly, and it certainly wasn't something that he was displaying at that point in time.

He never lashed out or attacked a single person on that day (though, the same could not be said for a few doors...). He didn't even look at them, instead choosing to glare at a certain King Enma Jr.'s office with such ferocity that some witnesses would liken to acid when retelling the harrowing tale. In fact, some would later say that it was a wonder the door didn't melt under his gaze.

But as Urameshi Yusuke stormed into Reikai, his eyes ablaze with fury and his aura even more so, the celestial employees could not help but wonder why he wasn't hurting a single soul. He hadn't been invited, had he? It was impossible... not after all that had happened, after all of the _stories_.

Then again, given the faint shadow and the tall, lean, figure of a rather effeminate young man that soon followed along with a rather anxious, blue-hair_ shinigami_ by the name of Botan, perhaps he had been invited, after all.

**.~.~.**

All that he could see was white, white, white and it burned. It burned and burned and all that he wanted to do was scream or close his eyes. But he couldn't. He couldn't move or scream or close his eyes or even think and there was nothing but white, white, white...

All that he wanted was for it to stop, but it wouldn't, it wouldn't and maybe he was in hell.

Perhaps Amut had finally come to take him.

He didn't know which was worse.

.

Was he even worth the effort of cleansing?

Koenma dismissed the thought immediately. It would only add more damage to the unsteady balance of the universe, more pain into existence. No, all that he could do was watch and wait and try to salvage what was left of the Nameless Thief's soul.

… All that he could do was try bond it back together with it's Other, to return it to its source.

Maybe, just maybe, it would do the world some good.

**.~.~.**

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Part 2/2 of the double update. Will probably update again tomorrow.**

**~starisfairy**


	4. Chapter III

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.**

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><p><strong>.~.~.<strong>

**III.**

**.~.~.**

* * *

><p>Suddenly, he was assaulted by colors, colors and sounds and light. It was overwhelming. It was beautiful. It was a miracle.<p>

He just wished that it weren't so painful.

There was too much, too many colors, too much sound, too much light... but it was welcome. He drank it in, for he could truly feel again. It wasn't empty, cold, and dark- but it wasn't blinding and burning and painfully pure and white, white, white either.

It was somewhere in between.

He opened his eyes once more, allowing himself to absorb the pain, the lights, the sound. After the Darkness, the lonely darkness- it was worth it.

He was in an office. It was quite unusual, with bright, pastel colors and strange technology that reminded him of something that Kaiba Corporation would have developed...

And then he remembered why he was here to begin with.

With a slight thrill of fear (_fear?),_ he looked up towards the ethereal creature that had transported him here, the one with the serious, hazel eyes and the pure, untainted spirit.

"Now, I suppose that I am now obligated to tell you what you are doing here, aren't I?"

It took the Thief a moment to register the being's words, and when he did... he couldn't find a response.

With a start, he realized just how weak he felt, how he felt as though he wasn't entirely there. Looking at his hands, he found that he was nearly transparent.

At this discovery, he looked back towards the god.

"As previously stated, I am Prince Enma Jr. and who you would have called Anubis in your era. However, I was not alive at that point in time, my father was in my position back then."

Once again, the Thief didn't answer. He couldn't find the words, couldn't make them come out.

And so the prince went on, "We have decided to give you a second chance, a chance to start anew."

The former King of Thieves stared at him in shock, uncomprehending. This time, words finally came to him.

_What?_

They wouldn't come out.

The prince went on, "There is, of course, a price of sorts."

The Thief listened to the prince finish explaining with an increasing impatience, listening intently.

"Surely, you can feel that you are less than whole. Even at this moment, your soul is at war with itself- trying to come apart.

_Why?_

"Why?" the prince echoed, so the god _could _hear him, somehow, "Well, there are many reasons to do with this, most of which are from your past and the damage that your soul has handled. A single soul can only go through so much. As for the second chance? Well, there are many reasons for that. The first would be the fact that, if you were not to be given a chance of atonement... you would not be the only one to suffer. Unfortunately, this is much bigger than just you now, and your Other is suffering much more due to the damage imparted on your souls."

_Other?_

Was he speaking of Zorc?

He had known that his soul was damaged, and he had known that he probably wouldn't make it to the Afterlife... but he hadn't expected this. What he had expected was, perhaps, his soul to be devoured by_ Ammit_, to have himself obliviated from existence... but another chance at life... it was impossible. He didn't deserve a second chance.

He had already used up all of his chances when he possessed a child. He was, by no means, an innocent party. Not like Ryou.

So why a second chance? Why?

Why?

And as for his Other? What did the God mean?

_What do you mean by 'Other'?_

Koenma looked at him in shock, so the Thief hadn't known what Bakura Ryou was? Most interesting, indeed. And so he explained, "When you first fell into contact with the Demon Zorc, you made a contract with him, correct?"

Not waiting for an answer, he continued, "Well, that contract enabled him to take you over completely, something that I'm sure you didn't quite foresee. In doing so, Zorc took you over completely and discarded what he did not want to interfere with his ability to take your soul over. In essence, he tore your soul into two halves, effectively giving him space to rule over your mindscape."

Suddenly, the Nameless Thief- for he was truly nameless: his name had long since been lost and he couldn't remember it no matter how hard he tried to- was filled with an understanding as memories assaulted him once more, coming together just a bit more clearly and showing the gaps within them.

Suddenly, it all made sense.

And suddenly, he felt anger. (Anger?)

A deep voice within him – was it his conscience, perhaps? – was telling him that he had no right to be angry at anyone but himself, that he was entirely at fault for this... but, in a way, he felt betrayed.

But it was more than that, a number of emotions that he couldn't identify came with the feeling of betrayal, guilt being the most prevalent once more.

How could he have been so childish? So naïve? How could he have lost a grasp on what was important to him, on who he was and what he had planned on doing with his existence long before any of this had happened?

Most importantly, how could he have let any of this happen to begin with?

_Who… who is my 'Other'?_

The celestial prince smiled a mysterious smile, "I would think that you would have realized by now who it was, or rather, who it is... but I know that you are curious, and all of this must be quite overwhelming without you trying to puzzle it out, so I shall tell you."

And so the Thief looked at the prince expectantly, waiting for the exposition of something that would change his everything, waiting to know who it was that held the rest of his soul...

"It's Bakura Ryou."

Before the former thief could register this, a parade of sound leaked from the surrounding building, the sounds of explosions and chaos punctuated by screams becoming apparent.

Immediately, Koenma could surmise exactly what was about to happen.

It appeared that Urameshi Yusuke had finally gotten the news the he had been called to Reikai, and that he wasn't particularly happy about this fact. It was to be expected, really – Yusuke had never been known for his ability to control his temper, and as unpredictable as he appeared to be... Yusuke could be read like a book.

And, as predicted, there was soon a nice, large, smoking hole where the Prince's door had once been, and a darkly furious half-demon right behind it.

Koenma may have been expecting it, but he certainly wasn't pleased at this turn of events, "Yusuke, how nice of you to... visit. Though, you could have been more gentle-"

Before he could blink, Yusuke was right beside him, pushing him into the wall right next to his desk.

"Why the hell am I here, and why the hell have your people been following me for the past year?" he interrogated, looking more and more angry by the millisecond. Koenma still wasn't surprised. After all, a SDF member had just woken him up from a peaceful slumber after stalking him for months. Anyone was bound to be irritated over that.

Really, Koenma was mildly surprised that Yusuke hadn't blown up the entire building. He was definitely gaining more control over his abilities as well as his emotions, and at a shockingly fast pace.

"Well, Yusuke, it wasn't exactly my choice. Given the circumstances and my father's opinion of you... the Spirit Defense Force got the order from right over my head, and you know that I am unable to challenge my father after the last incident." the god explained, his expression pained.

Still infuriated, but somewhat understanding, the half-demon let go of Koenma's front, making him fall with a thud. Yusuke stepped back, allowing the rather rattled otherworldly leader to stand up. Just because Koenma had _expected_ such a response didn't mean that it hadn't been somewhat terrifying.

"Well, then, why am I here?" Yusuke questioned impatiently.

Koenma simply looked pointedly over to the slightly translucent figure sitting near the wall adjacent to the door, staring at the spectacle in an unseeing fashion.

Yusuke blinked in surprise, "Oh."

"As you can see, I have company at the moment." Koenma stated matter-of-factly before looking back towards the silent Thief, "Nameless Thief, have you considered my offer? As I said before, there will be a price... but the benefit reaped from it is well worth it."

The man looked towards him slowly, eyes still out-of-focus.

_Yes, I find your offer to be quite intriguing. But I highly doubt that the young host Bakura would find it to be so. I can imagine that he'd be quite terrified of me, you see. _

Koenma felt a sort of satisfaction at Yusuke's surprised start. The Thief hadn't opened his mouth and yet his 'voice' projected through the room quite clearly.

His telepathic powers were surprisingly strong, considering.

"Oh, but I can assure you that he, too, will find it well worth it," the prince assured him.

The thief did not answer, already lost in his own thoughts, and Yusuke used to opportunity to re-ask his question, "Why have we been called here, Koenma?! Fuck, are you ever going to answer?"

"We were venturing to ask a similar question." a new voice stated cooly, adding to the general chaos of the room, "Though, I don't find the cursing to be quite as necessary." Glancing to the gaping hole that was once a door, one would see two figures standing in it, a tall lean young man and a shorter being that looked both younger, and very much less human.

Kurama, known to the Human World as Minamino Shuuichi, wasn't nearly as angry as Yusuke had been, though one could never tell with him. In fact, he was usually at his most terrifying when he seemed perfectly calm.

Now, however, he had on nothing but a calculating, thoughtful look, so he wasn't angry... or at least Koenma hoped that he wasn't.

Hiei, as per usual, just looked bored... but, then again, no one except Kurama had ever been able to understand the twisted thought process of the Jaganshi, and no one particularly wanted to, either.

"As I was saying before Yusuke so rudely stormed in," with this, the young leader of Spirit World shot the half-demon a glare, "I have an assignment for you all, a mission if you will. I know that you three have been not-so-honorably discharged... but this is important. After all, you all will be in the clear if this mission is a success."

"What do ya mean by that?"

"What I mean, Yusuke, is that, if you so desire, Reikai will stay out of all of your lives until the day that you die- for good, this time. I asked Father, and he agreed, albeit grudgingly. He will allow you to live your lives without the SDF tracking you."

For a moment, all was silent.

"But why this mission? Why has it been deemed to be of import?" Kurama finally questioned, eyes narrowing.

"Because this threat is a threat to us all. The Spirit World, Demon World, and especially the Human World. If this war gets out of hand, well, it could completely destroy the balance that everything so desperately needs in order to function."

Koenma looked at them all in turn, stopping on the figure sitting in the corner, his eyes still as blank as they had been when the conversation began, "Besides, this time, you have all been specifically selected due to your abilities and backgrounds. No one else can do this."

Silence reigned once more as everyone digested that explanation.

"Now," the young Lord clapped his hands abruptly, bringing the thief to attention with a start and standing up, "We must get down to business! Please, Botan-"

Botan, who had just arrived to the scene, bit her lip, waiting for the order.

"Could you keep track of the other parties needed for this mission? I need them here in three days."

Botan nodded, smiling, "I better get to it, then! I'll see you all later!"

And with that, she jumped onto her paddle, flying off to get ready for her next departure.

Glancing over the former Spirit Detectives, he asked hypothetically, "Are you going to stay here or are you going to go continue your lives? Shoo! I'll see you all in three days."

Yusuke sent Koenma a semi-playful glare at the order, but he complied without complaint, walking towards the door without a second glance. Koenma stopped him, suddenly realizing a most disturbing thing, "Do you have any idea how my father is going to react to the state of this place?" he squeaked, his expression suddenly horrified as he forgot about all else.

"He's going to kill me!"

Yusuke just laughed, "Hey, consider it revenge." with that, he left, chuckling as he went on his way.

Hiei had already left silently, without warning, and he was long gone, but Kurama was not so easy to get rid of, "Does this have anything to do with the Wizards, Koenma?"

The dimensional leader sighed slowly, "You never miss a beat, do you, Kurama? Yes, yes it does. I'm afraid that things have escalated beyond anyone's control."

"I see." Kurama answered knowingly, his expression unchanging before he looked Koenma straight in the eye, "They have offered the Treaty, then?"

Koenma nodded gravely, and Kurama took one last glance at the strange soul that was standing in the corner and watching the proceedings go by silently.

"This should be interesting." The redheaded demon stated dryly, leaving the room at a leisurely pace, his hands in his pockets.

And then the room was empty save for its original occupants. This was going to be a difficult process.

Koenma just hoped that he was up to the challenge.

**.~.~.**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Once again, a double post. Next chapter will be up in a few minutes. And once again, reviews are much appreciated. Hopefully this version is more consistent than the last.**

**~starisfairy**


	5. Chapter IV

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.**

**.~.~.**

**IV.**

**.~.~.**

Perhaps he was a tad biased, given his profession, but- in his opinion, Egypt was one of the one of the most grand places in the world.

It was gorgeous, with the desert sand and the rolling hills left mostly unperturbed and the bright, blinding Egyptian sun casting light onto whatever it could reach while suspended in a sky wrought with the palest of blues.

Yes, it was beautiful.

But it wasn't just the aesthetic value that made him feel so much affection for the place, so much unending curiosity. The desert wind called to him sometimes. It called to him and whispered thoughts and hopes and dreams and filling him with a certain yearning, a longing for the unknown.

He had always been a seeker of mystery, after all. This was mirrored in his profession.

It was a dangerous job, the art of cursebreaking, and it was also a capricious one. The tombs of Egypt were old, very old, and with that age came a dark power, one that he'd seen many times before in his years of working in this ancient country. Egypt had once been a great empire.

And suitable to its legacy, Ancient Egyptian magic was some of the most powerful magic that had ever existed and there was no doubt that it'd always maintain that label. As much as he didn't want to admit it… that power terrified him.

Approaching the large, white mansion before him, he couldn't help but feel just a little afraid of the people inside.

He had seen that darkness at work. He had seen what it could do and the damage that it could cause within the tombs. And that had only been remnants, small samples of its true potential- he could only imagine how amazingly catastrophic the uncontaminated version would be.

As they walked across the neat, pruned entryway towards the house in question, he glanced towards his companions, trying to read them. Of course- it was a pointless pursuit given who, exactly, his companions were.

Albus Dumbledore had never been possible to read, especially with everything going on. And Snape? Well, Snape had never been a particular emotional creature- he always looked the same. Always the same snarl at least.

But they knew what they were getting themselves into by coming here. They knew, and they probably knew this dark power almost as well as he did… if not just as well.

Nonetheless, Bill couldn't help but wonder what, exactly, was going through their minds as they neare the large, white door that was, obviously, the entrance of the house in question. He steeled himself. He shouldn't be afraid. He wouldn't be afraid. Not of this.

If everything went according to plan, the Ishtars would soon be their allies. And allies were to be trusted, weren't they?

He wasn't so sure. Given the way the rest of the Order had been acting regarding the entire situation...

He supposed that he'd just have to wait and see what happened.

The door opened before they knocked, revealing a young man with long, blonde hair, a strange assortment of jewelry, and a pair of curiously violet eyes that narrowed slightly as he inspected them suspiciously.

"We weren't told that we'd have visitors today. I'm sorry, but Isis prefers to schedule appointments for meetings." he frowned, making to close the door.

"Oh, but my dear boy- we are here to see the head of the Ishtar family for a reason. We have important matters to attend to."

The boy froze, "Of what sort?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in their merry way as he answered, "Of the most magical sort imaginable."

.~.~.

"Bakura-san, have you ever considered that your symptoms may be psychosomatic? I mean to say, with your history..."

"What part of my history are you referring to?"

The doctor had stayed silent for a moment, looking at Ryou carefully, as though considering his own words, "Bakura-san, we both know that your mental health history isn't necessarily clean, and I've already run tests. According to your bloodwork, there is nothing out of the ordinary-"

"I'm not imagining this." his voice was strong but inside he was drowning.

"And I'm not saying that you are. I'm merely suggesting a possibility. Have you had any blackouts recently?"

Ryou became ice. "No. No, I haven't." his voice was cold and flat, and he could feel himself shaking, "I'm not imagining this."

"I'm not."

**.~.~.**

She arrived with a noble air, graceful limbs long and dark hair even longer. Her face was shrouded in a veil of sorts, possibly a homage to her religion. Intelligent eyes of a beautiful blue surveyed the motley group of three with a shocking intensity.

Bill repressed the urge to shiver.

The woman, however, obviously wasn't impressed, "And who might these people be? Malik, I was in a telephone conference with some very important politicians..." she reprimanded the sandy-haired boy that she stood next to in Arabic.

Did she know that everyone before her was fluent in the language? He wasn't sure.

He shrugged, an obviously contrived nonchalance painted across noble features. He then answered in their native tongue, "I don't know. They asked for you." a pause, "But I... I can sense something coming from them, Isis, especially the old man."

A meaningful look passed between her and 'Malik'. She stiffened, stepping in front of him protectively before regarding Bill and his companions with suspicious eyes.

"We mean you no harm, of that I assure you." Dumbledore said, his voice a knife cutting the tense silence. His kept his expression kind.

"Who are you, then?" the boy spoke up from behind the woman, voice surprisingly cold and eyes like daggers.

Dumbledore chose his words carefully, "We are merely... interested parties."

"Cut your bullshit. Diplomacy will get you nowhere."

Appearing unperturbed by his bluntness, Dumbledore instead tried a different approach. He turned towards the woman, "Isis Ishtar, I presume?"

She nodded curtly, eyes cautious, "That is I. Now, answer my original question: who are you, and what do you want?"

"May we all sit down, Miss Ishtar?" Bill inquired, finally deciding to try and attempt to ease the tension of the room. After all, it was better than just hanging around and causing discomfort. They were here for a reason.

Glancing at him, she nodded once again before gesturing for them to follow.

They soon arrived into a large receiving room, fairly modern in appearance and not at all as intimidating as one would imagine. In honesty, he had imagined countless treasures made of pure gold and large, fancy tapestries and maybe even multiple servants in this big house.

There weren't even any sculptures, nor were there any tapestries. The walls were relatively bare and a rich brown in color, and there were paintings here and there, of the Mediterranean Sea and the desert and other such pretty landscapes. The furnishings were rather modest as well, simple and fairly comfortable.

There were no photographs.

Once everyone had settled down into their respective seats, Bill perched on his spot on the couch rather awkwardly alongside a scowling Severus Snape, silence reigned.

Of course, this didn't last for very long. Malik, who had previously standing in the doorway with an expression of irritation carved onto his features, stomped into the room, practically throwing himself onto the sofa near his sister (who, herself, was sitting rather rigidly in the loveseat nearby), finally spoke once more, "So, are you ready to answer my sister's questions, or are you going to just sit there and continue your idiocy? Tell. Us. Why. You're. Here."

"Malik. Be calm." Isis Ishtar ordered him authoritatively before regarding the unfamiliar visitors. She appeared to be very calm herself, but surely she couldn't be. Bill couldn't imagine being calm on the other end of this situation, with three unfamiliar men at his door and speaking of magic. Especially given the Ishtar family history.

He was surprised at her air of composure.

"Miss Ishtar, are you aware of the situation that the magical world is currently in?" Dumbledore started.

Isis blinked, "My family no longer affiliated with your kind, nor have we been for many years. It has been explicitly stated that we are not... welcome."

"Ah, yes, I thought that this would be the case. Severus!"

Already prepared, Severus Snape pulled up his left sleeve. The Mark was black, raw, and angry, slightly raised with scarring. The boy, Malik, suddenly looked ill.

"I'm sure that you've heard tell of Voldemort's return?" Dumbledore asked, "Even outside of the wizarding world, there have been whispers."

"Put that away." she glanced towards her brother, "Malik?" He blinked, looking away from the Mark and at her.

"Are you alright? She questioned with caution, and he frowned.

"Me? Yeah, fine..."

Receiving a nod from Dumbledore, Snape lowered his sleeve, tucking it away with ease.

"Yes, I've heard. There have been murders recently, it seems?" Isis, placated (if only slightly) by her brother's response, redirected her attention towards the trio.

"Many more people have died, more than I would have ever hoped." blue eyes sorrowful, Dumbledore seemed to have finally gauged the situation, "Voldemort has returned."


	6. Chapter V

****Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.****

* * *

><p><strong>.~.~.<strong>

**V.**

**.~.~.**

Tired.

He was tired of being considered unstable. He was tired of blackouts. He was tired of being unable to trust his mind, his perceptions. Tired of being tired.

Sometimes he wondered if his entire life after the accident had just been some sort of nightmare, a dream that he had while in a coma. Maybe one day he'd awaken to find that his mother was still alive. That Amane was safe and sound. That his family was whole. Or maybe he wouldn't wake up at all. At this point, both were welcome.

Anything but this.

Entering his apartment, exhaustion weighed down his every step as he took his shoes off at the door, dropped his bag in the living room, and went straight for his bed. He couldn't think anymore.

He was just too tired.

**.~.~.**

"I see." her eyes were inscrutable, "And why are you here?"

"We are here to offer a treaty."

"Oh? Of what sort?" she leaned forward in interest.

"We need your assistance."

"But why? Our clan has had nothing to do with Wizarding London for centuries. We have been exiled." a pause, "What changed this?"

"I am afraid that we are desperate." the twinkle had left his eyes completely now, "We need your clan to ally with us. If your powers were to fall into the wrong hands- it would be the end of civilization as we know it."

"I see."

Silence reigned.

**.~.~.**

The shadows called to him in his dreams. They called to him, and he wanted to follow them, to listen, to let them take him away.

And so he did.

Suddenly he could feel cold hands pulling, pulling, dragging him into the darkness. It was unsettling. It was unsettling and suddenly he wanted to fight them. He didn't want to lose himself.

He didn't want to.

It was piercing, the light that engulfed his dream. Pure, blinding. It chased the shadows away.

**.~.~.**

"Will you help us? Will you sign the Treaty as the master of your clan?"

She laughed aloud at this, her eyes sparkling and the tenseness leaving her body, "Well, you would have to ask my brother. After all, he is the leader that you are looking for."

**.~.~.**

He was at a crossroads.

Should he allow himself to disappear? Or should he choose the unknown?

He wasn't sure which fate was worse- reliving the past or disappearing completely. How does one choose the lesser of two evils? Fear was holding him back. This god, this Koenma... he seemed trustworthy and good. But if he were good, why would he lobby for this dark soul, this 'other half' that once caused him so much despair?

He could feel himself fading by the moment. He didn't want to die. But did he want to live?

He had always felt so alone, a ghost on a place as tangible as earth. Always moving forward, but never going anywhere. Always simply living. At least, since the accident. Why would he want to continue that?

And yet...

There was something holding him to existence. He had a soul. He was alive, with blood and bone and a heart and a mind. He had so much life to live. What if this 'Koenma' was right? What if his tormenter, the creature that both destroyed his life and saved it, saved his life again?

He had been so alone after the accident. Moving from place to place, from home to home- to his grandparents and then his aunts and uncles. The Spirit of the Ring had changed that, though not for the better. He had still been just as alone, really, and filled with the fear that he was losing his mind.

But had the Spirit been amoral? Had he truly realized what it was that he was doing, or was he influenced by his own puppetmaster just like Ryou had been?

Suddenly Ryou realized what he had to do. He had to save them both. A dysfunctional existence was better than none at all. He prepared himself for the bonding.

"I am ready." his voice seemed unreal, a tinkling sound that he couldn't recognize.

"Have you chosen, then?" this 'Koenma's voice rang out strongly and with so much more power than Ryou's own. It cemented his choice.

"I accept."

**.~.~.**

He blinked as if coming from far away. "Yes, I will sign it. But there are a few things that you must know before you truly decide that you want us as allies."

"And what would these be, young Master Ishtar?"

"Don't call me that." Malik frowned, looking towards his sister as if gauging what to say.

"The Shadows are a dangerous thing to wield. However, they are an equally as dangerous thing to be exposed to. In exposing oneself to them, they are risking a fate much worse than death. They are not something to be meddled with.",his expression was melancholy, "I would know from experience."

Dumbledore nodded, "I have heard already that Shadow Magic is a most unpredictable art."

"More than unpredictable. The Shadows are simultaneously amoral and judging. They are powerful and they have the capacity to do much destruction in their full-unharnessed power." he shared a look with his sister.

"And we who wield the shadows are not necessarily stable ourselves. We can destroy the world at our worst, but we can save it at our best." he then turned to Albus Dumbledore, his expression very serious, "Are you sure that you can handle us?"

"But of course."

"Okay. If so, then you have the Ishtar clan's support. I will need to contact my comrades to find out if they are also willing to assist me. What, exactly, would you have us do?"

**.~.~.**

"I hoped that you would say that." His tone was warm and fond and very gentle, "This is going be a lot for your soul to handle, Ryou. Be prepared."

For once, he actually had a choice in the matter as he smiled and nodded in affirmation.

A perverse mixture of unimaginable pain and pleasure that he would never be able to put into words as much as he later tried to engulfed him. The world was gray and black and white and every color in between for just an instant before it transformed into something like the sun- blinding, almost burning in it's brilliance. And then– nothing.

Ryou slept well that night.

**.~.~.**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Sorry for not updating last night, got caught up in stuff. Anyway, I think I'll do single daily updates up until chapter nine, which is where I've written up to. I usually update every few months, so don't expect for me to be fast. I'm not one to update consistently, but I don't plan on abandoning this story either. I'm in my last year of high school and graduation is coming up, so things will be busy? Yeah. Anyway, please review, it makes me really insecure when I don't get any. Which makes it harder for me to write. Which makes me get fewer reviews. Sigh. **

**Do you see my problem?**

**I really hope that you enjoyed, and any suggestions/comments are appreciated so long as you're very gentle with me. I am far too sensitive.**

**~starisfairy**


	7. Chapter VI

******Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.******

* * *

><p><strong>.~.~.<strong>

**VI.**

**.~.~.**

He awoke feeling sore, but intact. Healthy, even... much healthier than he had felt in awhile. Why?

And then he remembered the dream- had it been a dream?

He wasn't sure. It felt too real. He had been too aware. There had been too much addressed. He wanted to believe that it had just been his imagination at play. He wanted to so badly. But he couldn't.

_"You have been chosen."_

He could still hear the words within him. He could remember the Shadows pulling at him and the feeling of wanting everything to end. He could still feel cold hands on his skin.

No, it must've been real. It couldn't have been a dream. It was impossible.

But then...

Fear consumed him. It ate at his insides and suddenly he wanted to run far, far away. But he couldn't.

You can't run away from what's inside of you.

And so he closed his eyes and left the physical world and searched himself, his mindscape, his soul. He could feel it. He could feel _him_.

But Ryou didn't know how he felt about that.

**.~.~.**

_"Do you have a name?"_

_The question came to him tinged with fear and wariness and many other emotions that were perhaps unnamed._

_'I do not know it.'_

_"Why?"_

_'It was lost long ago.'_

**.~.~.**

It had been three days.

Botan smiled at him, "Are you ready?"

A rhetorical question. Ryou returned the grin with an apprehensive one of his own and tried to prepare himself as best he could. It hadn't exactly been successful– the ride to Reikai was both thrilling and terrifying- more the latter.

He wasn't sure of what he should have expected when he saw the entirety of the Spirit World for the first time; perhaps pearly gates and pretty clouds and people dressed in white and acting dignified. But he never would have expected this.

The _oni _of legend were doing this and that- talking on the phone and arguing and printing papers with surprisingly normal-looking printers given that this was supposed to be a place for the gods. No, this was not what he expected at all.

He found himself wondering if Enma sat behind a computer screen all day and, without really trying, he found himself envisioning Seto Kaiba with a crown upon his head. He would have made a _wonderful_ aristocrat. He tried to hide the smile that crept upon his face and tried even harder to hold in the laughter.

Koenma's office held a rather unusual assortment of people. There were three boys: one who looked almost inhuman, with long, red hair and an angel's face; another with black hair with a classic Japanese look to him and a fighter's body; and yet another with a wild mane of jet-black flames and eyes like fire. Then there was Koenma, himself.

Ryou had envisioned a Kaiba-like aristocrat, and that was what he had gotten. Koenma looked the part of the prince that he was. At least something was as expected. He was happy for that.

"Now, I guess that you all know why you are here?"

When Koenma spoke, his voice seemed much less like an anchor than it had during his dream that wasn't a dream. But that was okay- this man, no god, had saved his life.

He still wasn't sure how to feel about that.

"So, what's the plan?" the boy with the fighter's body spoke. His way of speech was as casual as his stance.

"Be patient, Yusuke. I'm getting to that part. Anyway, as Kurama," he glanced at the red-haired boy, "so observantly gathered at our previous meeting, we have a war on our hands. The Human World is in turmoil once more."

"_Che_, the Human World is always at war with itself. What made this matter?"

"Surely you have heard tell of the London Bridge's destruction, Yusuke? The news reached Japan."

"I've heard whispers, yeah. Not much."

"It's been shrouded in mystery to the general public." the red-haired boy, Kurama spoke this time, "Even I had difficulty finding out the source without proper resources. It's why I was forced to ask Koenma about ti."

"Yes. Well, it's a very complex matter. There is a world within the Human World that remains hidden from most humans. Only legends remain of it." Koenma explained, "The Japanese Magic World used to be more a part of it, as did the Demon World, but that was long ago – before the barriers to the Demon World were put into place and before Dark Magic became an illegal practice. The Human World isn't so innocent as it would lead most to think." he paused dramatically, "The Magical Community in Human World is at war. It is out of control and Japan has been offered a Treaty."

Ryou still hadn't registered the idea that the Spirit World even existed. The idea that other magic was afoot, that there were others with similar powers and pasts to his... it was inconceivable.

"What, exactly, does this mean?"

Koenma turned to him.

"Why do you need us? Our powers aren't even of Japanese origin."

He hadn't realized that he had used the word 'us', referring to both him and his Other, until Koenma smiled, "It seems as though I was correct in my choice to bond you, Ryou. You are handling it better than I expected you to. Congratulations." Ryou blushed, "As for why you are needed? Well, Japan, with its connection to both the Human and Spirit World, isn't the only place that has been cut off."

It dawned on him then, "We who harness the Shadows were as well, then..."

"Somewhat. The Ishtar clan is still occasionally in contact with certain parts of the Western magical community, but only in passing. Usually for excavation and preservation purposes. Not all of Japan has been exiled, either, there is a magic school here for Japanese Wizards who seek to learn the Western Style. However, they have to take an oath to never practice our brands of magic."

"Why are only Western styles allowed?" Ryou was curious and with his curiousity came a confidence that he didn't know existed within him.

"With age comes power and wisdom. With power comes a certain instability that they fear. Your form of magic, as well as what they call 'Japanese Traditionalism'- any old magic, really, is too far vested in what they consider to be something almost evil."

"But why?"

"Our magic is amoral, and rather neutral for the most part. However, all things can be turned evil. Eastern Traditionalist forms of magic are more inclusive than Western Forms, less secretive. We who use these forms are also darker by nature. We do not bind ourselves to simple things like charming teacups like the Westerners do, nor do we try as hard to hide from the humans. In fact, so much Eastern Religion is so interconnected with magic that it'd be impossible to isolate ourselves from society completely like they would have us do." the red-haired boy filled in the gaps.

"You say that as if you aren't human yourself."

"Are you?"

Ryou thought for a moment.

"I suppose I'm not."

He then turned back to Koenma, "What does the Treaty entail?"

"Albus Dumbledore, head of a prestigious school teaching Western Magic, has contacted us through Genkai. We are to send ambassadors to help as a way of promising support."

"And we're the ambassadors." the red-haired boy (his name was Kurama, Ryou believed) finished for Koenma with confidence.

"Yes, you are. There are others that I would send, but you are the most powerful creatures that we have among the humans at this point in time. An ambassador from the Ishtar clan is to join us in our duties."

"Malik?" it escaped his mouth before he could stop himself. Everyone looked at him.

"Ah, good, I thought that you would know one another."

"But who the hell are you?" the black-haired boy with the lean muscles (Yusuke?) had clearly been itching to ask for awhile.

Ryou wasn't sure how to answer that. What did they know?

"He is your teammate for this mission. That's all that matters right now. You can make real introductions later."

Yusuke glared at him and Ryou felt self-conscious and just a tad irritated. He felt himself return the glare. _He _rustled within him.

Kurama glanced at him, but he wasn't sure what for? Had he sensed _him_ coming through?

"Hmph, of course you would drag me along, Koenma." his eyes still burned like fire and his voice was venom.

"Ah, but Hiei, this threat is a threat to all of the Worlds. Your powers are needed especially for spying." Koenma paused again in thought, "besides, Kuwabara has decided to stay back to continue his studies and protect Japan. We need you in England."

Ryou repressed a shiver as he glanced at the small boy named 'Hiei'. He could feel the Darkness coming from him- though it was not the same as his own. He wasn't human or anywhere near human and he was not of the Shadows.

A thought came to him, "But what about Yuugi?"

"Yuugi Mutou is a friend of yours, correct?"

"Yes."

"I feel as though it would be easier for him if you were to invite him on this mission."

A wave of sadness and apprehension encompassed him, "I'm not sure if that's a good idea. Yuugi-kun... I am not sure if he will still want to continue our friendship once he finds out about _him_. Besides, his other friends hold precedence."

"Ask him anyway. At worse, he will at least be able to help defend Japan. The 'light' side of the western magical community is not the only side recruiting– Voldemort is, as well. We need reinforcements."

Ryou nodded, but a question was on the tip in his tongue.

"You leave in three weeks. Now, shoo, shoo! Get packed up, say your goodbyes. I'll see you all before you leave."

Everyone else left without a thought, clearly used to ambiguity. Everyone but Ryou, that was. He stayed behind.

"Koenma-_sama_?"

"Yes?"

"Who is 'Voldemort'?"

"Ah, I feel as though the Westerners would be able to explain better than I. He is the darkness that they so fear."

"Do you fear him?"

"No. However, I fear what he hopes to create. I fear that he will destroy the delicate balance."

"I see." left with many questions and even more thoughts, he turned, ready to leave. He mounted Botan's paddle and smiled at her. And this time, Ryou was ready for the journey home.

Moreso than before, at least.

**.~.~.**

_"I see. I'm sorry for that. It must be hard, to be nameless."_

_'It was deserved. But I never lost my title.'_

_"What was it?"_

_'The King of Thieves.'_

**.~.~.**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Another update! Don't have much to say, today, so yes. Please do review! I only have one so far, and the other version has 37. O_O It's been published for much longer though, so it does make sense. But still. **

**~starisfairy**


	8. Chapter VII

**Disclaimer:****Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing.******

* * *

><p><strong>.~.~.<strong>

**VII**

**.~.~.**

She wasn't an impressive figure.

She was small, tiny even. Her face would have once been considered beautiful, but she was very old and had a million little wrinkles and her hair was mostly gray – most of its color had faded. Her eyes were unsmiling.

She certainly didn't seem as though she were particularly dangerous or powerful.

But looks could be deceiving- everyone present knew that. In fact, looks could not only decieving but often were. This woman was no exception.

From what everyone could glean from Dumbledore's cryptic explanations, the two had known one another for many years. No one was sure of how long that might be, but it must've been long enough, for him to go to her as a representative for the Ministry and ask for assistance.

They weren't sure of how powerful she was, but apparently she must've been in order to be at her position in the Japanese magical community. But old woman or otherwise, powerful or not, her presence at an Order meeting was... unsettling.

She still practiced the Eastern Traditionalist craft, after all.

"I have called this meeting to welcome a new member to our ranks." Dumbledore's voice paused everyone's speculations, "This is Master Genkai, an old colleague of mine as well as a friend. I trust that you all will treat her with the respect that she deserves." there seemed to be an unspoken warning implied with that, though he seemed as cheerful as ever. With this, he gestured for her to choose a seat. She did so without comment.

"I decided to invite Genkai here today as a way of preparing everyone for what is to come. If you so please, dear friend-"

"My English is shit."

A few people frowned at the blatant language whilst others chuckled– Mrs. Weasely looked mortified. Dumbledore, however, didn't blink, "Ah, but I can understand you perfectly well, of that I assure you. I am sure that everyone else will be able to."

She frowned, "Very well then." a pause, "As you all know, many ancient magical traditions have long since been feared by you western folk."

Her English, while accented, was actually quite good, "In retrospect, it's quite understandable given the origins of our power. What your so-called 'authority' on magic fails to recognize, however, is that while our many forms of magic are often amoral, only some of us are truly evil beings... even our less human users."

"Less human?" Remus Lupin inquired, and everyone knew why he was interested – except, of course, Genkai herself.

"We don't seem to be as choose-y with who we teach our magic to. I understand that there are few non-human Wizards in your tradition?" she chuckled, "We would have died out long ago if that were the case. Fully human Japanese Traditionalists are rare. The same goes for many of the older forms of magic."

"Are you human?" the question was accusatory and coming from one Alastor Moody.

"That is none of your business, and you'd do best to not be so forward with the ambassadors that shall be arriving in a few week's time. They are young and don't have the same patience that I have gained through age. They'd probably kill you."

"Why, but they're only children!" Molly Weasley spoke up, aghast.

"Children are always the most powerful, you know. We often peak in late adolescence and early adulthood." Genkai looked thoughtful, "If we reach that age at all."

Molly whitened.

"Who, exactly, are the ambassadors representing your country?" Lupin changed the subject deftly and before Mrs. Weasley could reply.

"That's a very complex answer to a very simple question." the old woman said with an air of mystery, "The group in question is very much a variant one. I only know three of them well. One of them is my protégé." she looked almost fond.

Now everyone was interested.

Genkai didn't seem particularly interested herself, however, "Three of them are Japanese Traditionalists – Kurama, Hiei, and Yusuke Urameshi. I've known them for going on five years now. One of them is a bit of a wild card. I believe that he is affiliated with the Ishtar clan, though it appears that he's lived in Japan for the past few years. Ryou Bakura is his name. I've never met him." she frowned, "That's all that I can tell you about them. Ask them when they arrive if you are so curious."

She left the Order with a million questions and very few answers in the end.

**.~.~.**

Kurama waited until their next meeting to tell her. He needed time to think about what to say. He'd already used up so many different explanations and excuses.

"Mother?"

"Yes, Shuuichi?" she cut up the leek carefully, preparing to put its contents into her miso.

"I have been considering some things."

"What sort of things, dear?"

"I want to see the world." it was a lie. Kurama had already seen his three thousand years worth of the world.

"I see." she was calm, "When will you be leaving?"

It was one of the things that made her so important to him, that allowance of freedom. She wanted him to grow. She didn't pry and she didn't ask questions when he wouldn't share as much as a parent would want him to.

It kept her safe.

"Three weeks."

"How long will you be gone?"

"I'm not sure."

She smiled at him, but he could see the knowing in her eyes that he wished he couldn't see, "Don't stray too far, Shuuichi."

"I won't." he loved her so, "I promise."

**.~.~.**

"Apparation is a horrible invention. I can't imagine who the hell would be idiotic enough to create something like it."

Dumbledore chuckled heartily, "I can understand how you feel that way. It isn't particularly pleasant." his expression turned serious, "You are hiding something. I can tell."

"There is much to be known about these boys. They will tell you what you need to know in their own time."

"We know nothing of their abilities or their backgrounds. How are we to trust them?"

"You trust me. They are no different than I am."

"The entirety of the Order is hesitant to trust you, as well."

"That is their ignorance. All that you need to know as of right

now are two things."

"And what might these be?"

"Treat them with respect and do not underestimate them."

"They are children."

"And you are foolish," Genkai chuckled, "Thinking like that will be your undoing. Don't underestimate them."

**.~.~.**

Ryou sighed, trying to gather up the courage to open up the door of Yuugi's family's store. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to lose another friend... not after everything. He'd lost so many already.

He opened the door anyway.

"Hello, welcome to_Kame_ Game Shop!"

He'd never met Yuugi's mother before– and he could tell that she was his mother by her features and haircolor. She was taller that he had expected.

"Ah, hello. Is Yuugi-kun available?"

"Oh, one of Yuugi's friends! I'll go get him right now."

"Thank you very much." and he really was thankful. But mostly scared and already very sad.

"Bakura-kun!" Yuugi's voice was anxious.

Ryou looked up. Yuugi's voice wasn't the only thing depicting concern as he skidded to a halt in front of him, breathing somewhat heavily. Had he been running?

"Are you okay?"

"What?"

"You missed the last two days of school until the end of summer break! We've been calling you all weekend, but you haven't answered. Jounouchi-kun even stopped by a few times!" Yuugi's eyebrow furrowed, "That, and you've been acting strangely recently. None of the teachers would tell us anything."

"Oh, yes. I apologize." Ryou couldn't make himself look at him, "I had a doctor's appointment on Thursday and I was busy on Friday. Once again, I apologize." he bowed.

"It's fine! We were just worried is all."

"I- I actually came here to discuss something very important. Can we talk somewhere quiet?" indeed, the game shop was not a very quiet place– nor was it a particularly private one. Sensing Ryou's intent, Yuugi nodded. He led them up to his room. Yet another thing that Ryou had never seen before.

"It's nice in here." and it was. Its colorful interior suited its inhabitant quite well, indeed.

Yuugi beamed, "Thank you. So, what was it that you needed to talk about?"

"_Ano..."_ he fumbled for words, "It's hard to explain."

"Try!"

"Well, I suppose you could say that it has to do with magic."

"The Shadows." Yuugi caught on quickly, "So does that mean that you have noticed them as well?"

"Yes." Ryou was stalling now, he knew that he was, "I don't know why, but I've noticed it, too."

"Do you think it has to do with the destruction of the Items?"

"... Perhaps. But that isn't the point. Recently, some events occurred that lead me to believe that the Shadows are not the only magical force that exist."

"What do you mean?"

"Would you believe me if I told you that I met a god the other day?"

"What?"

"I... I've been recruited for some sort of mission in England. To help bring balance to the world. This King Enma Jr. says that I'm one of the only people that has the ability to do anything about it."

"But why?"

"It's some sort of exchange to save me. To save my soul."

"What do you mean?"

Ryou looked at him and he was sure that Yuugi could see the sadness in his eyes, "He's back, Yuugi-kun. I had to-"

Yuugi gasped, standing up and backing away from him with something like fear and something else like hatred, "How is he alive? Why would you let him back into you?"

His voice was venom.

**.~.~**.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Haha, I even manage to post chapter reposts later than expected. This is a problem. But oh well, here it is! Chapter Seven is here! Woohoo!**

**~starisfairy (who is currently plotting chapter nine and believes that it will be upby sometime next week because fae is a Big Lazy Loser)**


	9. Chapter VIII

**Disclaimer: ******I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing.********

* * *

><p><strong>.~.~.<strong>

**VII.**

**.~.~.**

"Look, Keiko, I'm sorry-"

"Save it." she was fury, "I shouldn't have expected anything else from you."

"It isn't my choice. If I didn't need to go I wouldn't."

"The last time you left took three years."

"But I warned you beforehand! We even-" he pointed to the ring on her finger.

...Perhaps that had been a bad idea.

"Oh, so the proposal was just an apology for leaving back then? That's good to know."

"No, no! I didn't mean it like that." he took a deep breath, "Keiko, this is for our future."

"Don't. Don't tell me that you have to 'save the world'. You've already saved the world too many times. You've already sacrificed too much. This isn't fair to me. To us." the anger was melting now and turning quickly into tears, "We were only just settling down after everything."

She was sobbing and Yusuke wasn't quite sure of what to do.

He wasn't much for hugging, not really. It had always felt awkward to him. Wrestling felt much more natural– at least you didn't have to try to be gentle. Urameshi Yusuke didn't do gentle. But Urameshi Yusuke had done a lot of things that he didn't do in the last few years, so, unnatural or otherwise, he wrapped his arms around her, "Hey, stop that."

"Why should I?" her voice was muffled in his T-shirt and she was still sniffling, "You're leaving."

"Silly girl." girls were so unreasonable given how smart they were other times, "I'm not leaving for forever. I'll only be gone for a few months. A year, at most." she looked up at him and he smiled in what he hoped to be a reassuring fashion, "And I'll call ya every few days."

"You will?"

"Of course I will! What would I do without my anchor? I'd float away~" he pointed out the window towards the setting sun dramatically.

"You really would." she returned the smile. His T-shirt was wet now with her tears.

He found that he really didn't mind.

"Why do you have to leave, exactly? Can you just tell me that?"

"It's complicated."

"And that's bullshit."

Yusuke laughed aloud. It wasn't often that Keiko cursed and it was surprisingly nice to hear.

"If I help with this last mission, they'll finally let me be free. King Enma will never bother us again. We won't be watched anymore. No more eyes on our backs. We'll be free."

"There is always a price to freedom. Why is this mission so important that they would put so much at stake?"

He wished that he knew.

"I'm not sure. Koenma said that it affects the balance of all of the worlds."

Keiko relented, "Do you promise that you will take care? Don't be impulsive."

"I'll try-" she glared. He really didn't want to start another argument, "Fine, fine! I will be careful. I've already used up all of my chances, anyway."

"I love you."

"... I love you, too."

**.~.~.**

_"Erm, hi. This is Malik. Malik Ishtar. I know that we aren't on the best of terms, but something important has come up and we need to talk. It has to do with past events and events soon to come. Anyway, thanks for listening, and call me back as soon as you get this if you can. Okay, bye."_

So apparently the Ishtar clan had already been contacted, as well. Good. It meant less explaining and more planning.

... Ryou was actually surprised at how normal Malik seemed on a recording. Just a typical teenager. The content of the message hadn't been, but the person? The person had in many ways. It made him wonder.

He dialed the callback number and prepared himself.

The answering language was Arabic. Ryou wasn't quite sure of what Malik was saying – most likely a greeting of some sort.

"Hello, is this Malik Ishtar? This is Bakura Ryou. I am calling in response to the voicemail that you sent today. I'm not quite sure of the time there, sorry if I'm intruding-"

_"Oh, Bakura! Hello! No, it isn't a problem. I might've called too late last night for you to answer- five hour time difference. Timezones are a bitch, you know?" _Malik switched to Japanese immediately. Impressive.

Ryou laughed, "Yes, yes they are."

He hoped that he didn't sound as uncomfortable as he felt.

_"So, how have you been?"_

"Ah, it's been an interesting few months. Ups and downs. Actually, I was planning on contacting you today due to some important events that occurred recently."

_"Same, same."_ Malik chuckled, _"You go first."_

"I take it that you've been contacted in regards to what's happening in England?"

He didn't seem surprised, _"Yes, actually. Were you recruited by your country, then? The man who we met with told us that the Japanese have been involved."_

"I am part of the Japanese team. Will you be leaving in three weeks as well?"

_"Yes."_

"Good. I suppose that I will see you then?"

_"Perfect. By the way-"_

Ryou sighed, "Malik-kun, it's fine. There's a lot that I can't tell you right now and I know that you probably feel the same. We can discuss all of this in person. It's fine."

He was too tired right now to feel any anger or bitterness after everything. Sadness was enough.

_"Sounds good. See you then."_

**.~.~.**

Three weeks had passed, and Kurama was done packing. He had said his goodbyes.

They had been brief, but they done what they were supposed to do. His step-father had told him that he was still allowed to work at his company when he came back– it didn't matter how long it took. His step-brother had been distracted by something, presumably the girl that he was dating in secret.

And his mother? She had smiled, giving him a tender hug and a kiss on the cheek and telling him to stay in contact. There had been no tears or sadness. Shuichi was a grown man, if a 'young' one. It was only natural for him to want to explore the world.

If only they had known.

(But he was glad that they didn't.)

And so here he was – sitting at the kitchen table in his little apartment and pondering.

It had been a long time since he had seen the Wizards, nearly a thousand years. The last memory that he had of them was stealing from a prestigious Wizarding bank called 'Gringots', where the warnings preached on about high security.

'High security', indeed. That place had been easier to steal from than some of the less secure Egyptian temples – and he had gone rather deep into the catacombs of the bank as well. What are a few dragons compared to Ancient Egyptian curses?

That was one of his last memories of Human World before the barrier had been erected. He'd had to steal from other demons after that – which was, in retrospect, a tad more challenging. Still. He wondered if they had remembered his name.

A knock at the door.

He could feel Genkai's present behind it along with an energy that spoke of the Western craft. So Albus Dumbledore had come to deliver them personally. He almost felt flattered.

Albus Dumbledore – and Kurama knew that this was him, there were few Wizards who had as strong Spirit Energy and he had done his research – was not an intimidating man. He was old by Human standards, perhaps Genkai's age, tall, and his eyes seemed constantly amused. His hair was long and white.

He looked the stereotype.

But, at the same time... Kurama sensed something coming from him. A taint on his Life Energy. A curse of some sort?

"Ah, Genkai, how are you this fine morning?"

"As old and bitter as ever. All packed?"

"Of course."

Dumbledore was looking at him with curious eyes now, observing and searching – presumably for the why Kurama was one of the ambassadors to begin with.

"And you are?" he asked it as a question for information's sake.

He knew who Dumbledore was. He was an important figure in the magical community according to multiple sources. However, he knew nothing of Dumbledore's personality nor his motivations.

He wanted to know.

"I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I am also one of the leading parties in the war that is happening." Dumbledore's Japanese wasn't perfect – it was overly formal, just a tad too polite. But it was decent.

"I see. I am Kurama. The rest isn't of consequence."

"Another single name? Fascinating. Is there a particular reason for you to avoid divulging your birth name?"

"Not one that should matter."

"I see." Kurama could still see the spark of curiousity, "Well, we should be going then!"

Kurama had never Apparated before. He would have preferred running any day.

.

Bakura Ryou was a fascinating boy, indeed.

For all of his digging, Kurama couldn't find much on him. At least nothing that could be pieced together into answers. A few newspaper and magazine articles had been among his findings– three spanning for the last four years and one two from the past year.

The first had been a piece discussing a car accident in which two deaths had occurred – Bakura had been the only survivor. Not much had been mentioned other than that his mother – Alice – and sister – Amane – had been the ones who had died. The boy had gotten out with few lasting injuries. But Kurama knew that it wasn't the full story.

The next two articles, however, had been very interesting. It seemed that Bakura didn't have the best luck in regards to relationships. Comas. Lots of them. These, too, mentioned no details– only speculations and accusations and other such subjective viewpoints.

He wondered what the story behind that was. Most likely cases of inadvertent magic. It happened to every human when their abilities came to them, though often in harmless ways – but Bakura hadn't been lucky. This was, of course, more speculation.

The last two articles had been magazine articles discussing card game tournaments. 'Duel Monsters' was the name, and it had originated in the United States. It appeared to be quite popular, and the boy in question had been in the top five at an international tournament held by Kaiba Corporation. It seemed to be of little consequence, but it was something.

Spirit World didn't always recruit innocent parties for their dirty work. Kurama would know. Perhaps young Bakura was atoning for some sort of sin or owed a favor.

And then there had been the Spirit at their first recruitment meeting and the meeting that Bakura had attended, himself. They appeared to have a connection of some sort. Could they have been soul fragments?

When Albus Dumbledore had knocked on his door, he had answered with great haste, looking just a tad nervous.

Ryou had never met Genkai, nor had he met Albus Dumbledore, but he did recognize Kurama and Yusuke. He brightened, "Hello! Are you here to retrieve me for the mission, then?"

"Are you Bakura Ryou?" Dumbledore.

"Yes! And who might you be? Are you one of the people from England?"

"Indeed. I am Albus Dumbledore."

"I see. It's nice to meet you." Bakura Ryou smile was disarming... but Kurama could tell that it was contrived. Not many would be able to, however. It was the perfect mask.

Kurama felt an eyebrow raise. The boy certainly seemed fascinating. Kurama loved mysteries.

He loved mysteries, but this was one for another time. Right now?

Right now it was time to start a new mission.

.**~.~.**

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Okay, this is the second to last chapter that I have before I run out of prewritten material. I do not update often, I usually do it every few months or so. I will try to update faster, but I can't make any promises. If you could review, it'd be great! **

**Also, I am going to make a pretty big A/N at the end of chapter nine in regards to this story and pairings/etc. Which will be? Either tomorrow or the next day. And then I have to write chapter 10! Try to hold me to it, it's on my Creative Writing course's assignments for this week. Independent study is useful sometimes. :)**

**~starisfairy**


	10. Chapter IX

****Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing.****

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><p><strong>.~.~.<strong>

**IX.**

**.~.~.**

* * *

><p>Ryou had already decided that Apparition was not the ideal way to travel– it felt as though his lungs had been crushed. Before he could well and truly breathe again, a small piece of paper was shoved underneath his eyes.<p>

'The Order of the Phoenix can be found at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, London.' it read. An address?

But when he looked up at the row of houses towering above him, there was no Number 12 Grimmauld Place. There was an 11 and there was a 12, but it looked as though Number 12 had been skipped.

He found himself wondering why someone would make such a silly mistake, especially given how large the houses in this neighborhood seemed to be and how expensive he could guess that they were. One would think that the builders would have been more careful…

"Concentrate on what you just read." it was as if Dumbledore had sensed his confusion, but perhaps he hadn't been the only one. When he glanced at his new comrades, he found that they looked rather perplexed themselves.

Ryou did as he was told.

It had appeared out of thin air and squeezed itself between Number 11 and Number 13, and it was just as large as the other two… if a tad more foreboding. It seemed cold and unlivable from the outside. As they neared the door to the massive townhouse, Ryou decided that it really didn't look any better up close. On the door, there held the address and a most unsightly decorative piece featuring shrunken and inhuman heads- were those real?

Dumbledore didn't bother knocking.

The entire house hummed with something that Ryou couldn't name. The only thing that he could liken it to was white noise or static. But it was more intense than that, more penetrating. He didn't like it.

And then the screaming began. It was shrill and angry and Ryou couldn't quite make out what the woman was saying– something about 'mudbloods' and 'muggles' and 'inhuman beasts' 'disgracing the house of Black'.

It stopped soon enough as he heard the sound of heavy curtains being drawn quite forcefully, which was then replaced by a much softer and kinder voice, "Is that you, Albus?" She was a mother. He could always tell – motherly types never failed to remind him of his own. She was small, plump, and she had a face just as kind as her voice had been. Her hair was fire.

"Yes, Molly, it is I. I have come to deliver our Japanese ambassadors to their first meeting."

Molly. Ryou wondered what her family was like – it must've been a nice one.

"Oh, dear! Are these boys the representatives?" she studied them. Her eyes were sharper than he would've guessed just by looking at her. They weren't quite as motherly as the rest of her was.

"Indeed."

The woman's face paled slightly as she pursed her lips. Her voice, however, was still quite calm, "Well, then, take them into the dining room. The meeting's just begun."

The inside of the house was nearly as gloomy as the outside, but it was bigger than he would have guessed. Nonetheless, it didn't take them very long to reach the dining room.

It was filled with a motley assortment of people – a girl with mousy, brown hair who was perhaps in her twenties sat next to a man who's face looked as though he'd been through a war; one of his eyes seemed to be mechanical and the way in which he looked at him made him feel as though his soul was being searched… though Ryou knew that this wasn't the case. Or was it?

There were many others as well, but these two stood out to him more than the others. The girl didn't seem like she was supposed to have hair of that color… it was too plain for her. Her spirit was fire. Ryou wasn't sure why. And, well, the man with the strange eye stood out for obvious reasons.

The buzzing was worse in here, louder and stronger. It was making him feel nauseous, and he could feel a headache blooming. He glanced towards his comrades.

…Was he the only one who could feel it?

He could dimly register Dumbledore's voice welcoming them into the 'The Order of the Phoenix' as he sat down on the seats that were summoned from, seemingly, nowhere.

He couldn't bring himself to suprised. Things suddenly weren't connecting the same way— he couldn't think and he was tired, so tired. It was a familiar feeling.

Ryou had thought that this was over.

**.~.~.**

Kurama could feel the power coursing through the house. It was electricity running through him – the energy was everywhere. It crackled in the air.

It wasn't a particularly powerful form. It wouldn't be noticeable in a crowd full of normal humans– but there was too much of it. In this concentration, it'd be difficult for anyone with any significant spiritual awareness to tune out. He was sure that his teammates were feeling it as well. So this was Wizard Neo-Magic—he could barely recognize it from how it used to be. Then again, he'd been much less powerful a thousand years ago. Perhaps that was it.

He doubted it.

Redirecting his attention, he studied the people in the room. There were ten Order members present including both Genkai and Dumbledore and excluding both him and his new team mates – from a rather disfigured man missing an eye and sporting a – surprisingly Demonic– one in it's stead to what seemed to be a family of red-heads to an older woman wearing a very pointy hat with severe expression on her face to a man with greasy, black hair and an interesting air to him– a spy, perhaps?

How very eclectic.

"What are your names, ages, and ranks?" the man with the Demonic eye broke the silence. He directed his gaze towards Yusuke first, who shrugged but didn't answer.

"Ah, I apologize." Kurama interrupted the exchange in English, himself, "Yusuke only speaks Japanese. One moment, please."

He then switched to Japanese, turning towards his rather disgruntled friend, "How much English do you know?"

Yusuke frowned and shrugged again, "Not enough. Keiko's been trying to make me learn some phrases, but none of it really stuck. What the hell did he just ask me?"

"I guessed as much. He asked for your name, rank, and age."

"You know that as well as I do."

Few who were present seemed to understand the exchange, instead looking on with mystification.

"I will speak for my comrades tonight as it seems that I am the only one entirely fluent in English." Yusuke looked irritated, but didn't contest, and Hiei didn't comment, which Kurama took as a 'yes'.

"…I'll speak for myself, if that's alright. I'm fluent as well." Bakura's English was perfectly accented and melodic, practiced. Something clicked – his mother's name had been Alice. A British name. So that was why he didn't look entirely Japanese…

He looked paler than he had when they had arrived.

Kurama disregarded it. He could find out later. He nodded in assent before addressing the man with the curious eye, "I am Kurama. I am nineteen. I am a former member of the Japanese Magical Government – I was part of a team with Yusuke Urameshi and Hiei." he pointed to both in turn, "Well, I suppose that we are now part of a team, as well, but of a different nature that the one that we were on back then. Yusuke was our leader of sorts back then. Yusuke is eighteen."

The man, surprisingly, didn't comment on the fact that Kurama hadn't mentioned Hiei's age— good,"How long have you worked for the Japanese Ministry?"

"Nearly five years."

A few people's expressions turn into ones of disapproval at that. Was it his age that bothered them so? In retrospect, he supposed that the age of fifteen, in human years, was an early age to start working for the government. But the situation had never really been typical anyway.

"Why did your government agree to send you here, and why did they pick you four as representatives?"

"I believe that our government signed a treaty promising you our assistance. As for why we were picked? Well, your 'Ministry of Magic' asked for our government's strongest team with the widest range of talents."

"And that's you?" his Demonic eye was trying to read something off of Kurama – not that it could get much. It didn't appear to be particularly powerful. A low-level artifact, D class at most. It wouldn't be able to read anything off of him other than the most basic of information.

"It is."

"Why did you choose to come?"

"That is… personal."

"How can we trust that you are being honest, then?"

"I suppose that you will simply have to."

"And why would we do that?"

Kurama was vaguely irritated, now, this man wasn't powerful enough for him to be questioning in such a way.

"We are not the ones that asked you for help. Your Ministry asked us. We can leave should you choose to not trust us based on your misconceptions of our magical abilities." he wondered why, when he said that, a few people flinched. Was his true nature showing through? He had to reign his emotions in. This wasn't the time to be scaring everyone.

The man, who had clearly been through a war and lived to remember it for no one who hadn't been through a war or had some kind of training could have been this calm among something this unpredictable, didn't blink, "And what might those abilities be?"

"I suppose that you'll have to wait and see, will you not? We will show you when we choose to."

The tension was rising, and the man with the Demonic eye studied him for a moment.

"Very well, then. If Dumbledore trusts you, I suppose that I must tolerate you being here." a pause, "That does not, by any means, mean that I trust you myself. Nor do any of us." he gestured to the rest of the Order, who looked on without reaction.

"And that is fine. We are not here to seek approval."

The tense silence that had lifted earlier had come back heavier than ever, but Kurama was unperturbed. He had only spoken the truth – they were not here for approval or friendship. And if these naïve—for that was what they truly seemed to be—humans chose not to trust them? It was their choice. It'd only hurt them in the long run, really.

The man spoke again, "One last question: what does He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named know about you that we don't?"

"He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named? Is that your name for Voldemort?" nearly everyone save for Dumbledore shuddered again and Kurama knew that he was correct in his assumption, "Nothing that we know of."

The man glared but didn't continue speaking. Dumbledore, seeing that the interview (interrogation) of sorts had ended for the time being, interjected, "I suppose that it is time for introductions on the Order's part as well, then!"

Kurama had been right – the two red-heads in the room other than him were, in fact, a family; they had many children and were a married couple. Molly and Arthur Weasley. The man who had been questioning him was named Alastor, or 'Mad-Eye' Moody, and other people present included Severus Snape, Minerva McGonagall, Nymphadora Tonks, and Albus Dumbledore. There were apparently many other members of the Order that had been busy with other appointments and assignments

So this was a large organization, then.

But… if this was a large organization full of people with at least semi-significant abilities… why did they fear this 'Voldemort' so thoroughly that they couldn't even manage to use his name?

The only answers that he could come up with were more questions.

There was a lull in conversation, introductions were done and the room was only slightly less tense than before. Alastor Moody looked ready to continue his interrogation and was eyeing Bakura with a mixture of interest and suspicion.

Kurama almost pitied him.

"What is your name, boy?" Moody's tone was just as sharp and biting as it had been before as he addressed him, but Bakura didn't react. He only blinked.

"My name?" he parroted, dazed. His voice was quiet, nearly a whisper. He was shaking slightly.

Was it fear?

No, it couldn't be. Bakura didn't look afraid. His breathing wasn't as even as it had been and he was shaking, but it wasn't out of fear. Kurama could smell fear. This wasn't it.

Was the Neo-Magic's current affecting him to this extent?

Though, if it was affecting Kurama enough to make him more snappish (and he was, by nature, quite calm), then perhaps it could affect the boy in such a way. He was seemingly young, after all.

Bakura's eyes cleared somewhat and his voice sounded stronger this time, "Apologies, I was thinking… I am Ryou Bakura."

Moody looked unimpressed, "State your age, rank, and affiliation with the Japanese Government."

Bakura was more prepared now and answered rather quickly. Apparently he was used to working through duress, "I am seventeen. I am not sure what you mean by 'rank', I only recently allied with the Japanese Government and have not had a rank assigned to me. However, I am a part of this team…" he gestured towards his 'comrades'—Kurama, Hiei, and Yusuke in turn, "As I already said, I only recently allied with the Japanese Government…"

"How recently might this have been?" Moody interrupted abruptly. It seemed to be something that he was prone to doing rather often. How rude.

"This is my first mission. I was recruited around a month ago."

"What did you do before? If you weren't affiliated with the Japanese Government until recently, when and how did you receive your training?"

"I was a student at a Japanese high school. Multiple, actually. I always have hated staying in one place." he smiled ruefully at that. There was backstory there.

"A Muggle school?"

"Muggle?" Bakura looked somewhat perplexed.

"It means non-magical folk." Dumbledore interjected warmly, smiling. It was quite interesting, the dynamic in this group. Moody was a war-hardened veteran, and surely Dumbledore was, too—perhaps he simply hid his knowledge until he needed to retrieve it. Moody was attack first, ask questions later, whereas Dumbledore was a bit more strategic.

Kurama liked that.

"Ah, yes then. Just a normal, typical school really."

"And as for training?"

"Training?" Bakura echoed and then frowned, "I didn't receive training, I learned what I know on my own." a pause, "Well, for the most part."

"Elaborate." Moody seemed to think that he was going to be a bit more open than Kurama had been, but Kurama wasn't so sure. It didn't seem as though Bakura intended on going into detail on any of the questions, and he hid it all behind a smile. Fascinating.

"Surely you know that I am affiliated with the Ishtar clan? I suppose you could say that Malik Ishtar and I are… old acquaintances. As for what I know, I learned it on my own."

"And what is it that you know? What are your abilities?"

Bakura paused, studying him thoughtfully.

"I'm afraid that telling you that isn't a good idea for the time being… it's difficult to explain without someone else to help to explain it, and I doubt that I'd be able to explain sufficiently given my limited knowledge. I'm rather new to my abilities, myself. I doubt that I would be able to explain it in English. I apologize."

"Why would the Japanese government choose to recruit someone who didn't know their Craft?"

The boy laughed pleasantly, though there was some bitterness masked underneath it, "Oh, just because I can't explain it properly in this language doesn't mean that I don't have the skill. I've been… perfecting my Craft since I was twelve years old, more or less. Unknowingly at first, but yes. I know my abilities well."

One who wasn't as skilled as Kurama was at reading others wouldn't have seen it at all.

So he'd been right. Those stories in the newspaper had been, most likely, accidental magic of a sort.

"Mr. Bakura, if you can not explain your abilities, can you perhaps show them?" Dumbledore interrupted once more, perhaps trying to ease the tension somewhat.

"… that would not be wise."

"How are we supposed to trust you if you can not show us what your capabilities are? Any of you?" Moody glared at Bakura Ryou and Kurama in turn.

Bakura was still shaking, but he also showed no fear. His eyes were steely now, his gaze steady, "I was recruited by the Japanese Government so that I could help the magical world fight a threat that is a threat to us all. I do not intend to cause any of you harm. I am merely here to be of use. I do not have the same abilities as my comrades, I do not use the same magic. I am more connected to the Magick of Ancient Egypt than I am to Japan. I can not speak for them—" he gestured once again to Kurama, "But I can speak for myself and I am sure that my comrades feel the same way. I do not intend to cause any of you harm."

"Intention does not equal a promise."

"I try not to give promises that I can't keep."

"Very well then. I don't know what Dumbledore was thinking, but I've asked my questions and he's more than capable of making his own decisions." Moody stood up abruptly (he seemed to do most things abruptly), limping towards the door, "I shall take my leave, but everyone remember- CONSTANT VIGILANCE."

Surprisingly, no one jumped at the loudness of Moody's voice or the door slamming behind him—it must've been a usual occurrence.

So this was the Order of the Phoenix.

This certainly was an… interesting mission that Koenma had decided to push them into. Not that Kurama was complaining.

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**Hahaha wow, look at how late this repost is. I'm sorry, I've had a rough few weeks and haven't found the motivation to edit. Or to do anything, for that matter. I'm so behind in school... ack.**

**Anyway! I already started chapter 10 a few weeks ago, but then my computer malfunctioned and I lost the thousand words that I'd written. It was... disappointing. I may be able to recover it, so we shall see! I was considering whether or not to omit that scene anyway, so I'm taking this as a sort of sign. I'll try to publish chapter 10 either sometime next week or the week after- I'm going out-of-state for a few weeks to visit California! I used to live there, so. I'm not sure how busy I'll be.**

**Thank you for being so patient, and please review!**

**-starisfairy**


	11. Chapter X

**Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing.**

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><p><strong>.~.~.<strong>

**X.**

**.~.~.**

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><p>The trip to their second destination, Ryou thought, was even more unpleasant than the last. After leaving the rather unwelcoming place known as the Order of the Phoenix's headquarters, the group had promptly Apparated once more to an area that seemed rather far away from any form of modern civilization. And that meant walking.<p>

Ryou sighed inwardly.

"Ah, yes, we must walk a bit now from here. It is impossible to Apparate onto Hogwarts grounds, you see!" Dumbledore seemed to be enjoying himself at the prospect of walking a mile or two, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

It wasn't. Ryou's visit to the Order had drained him more than expected. He wanted to lay down and sleep away the terrible throbbing in his head and the feeling that he wasn't entirely _there_ that was incongruous to the leaden heaviness of his limbs.

He followed everyone when they started on their way anyway because there really wasn't a choice in the matter. The journey was silent, and he somewhat wished that someone would break the silence- partially because, after the Order meeting- no, _interrogation_, the tension in the air was only slightly less thick than it had been and partially because he was starting to feel a bit dizzy and needed to focus on something other than how horrible he felt.

He still hadn't the inkling as to why stepping foot inside of the Order had affected him so severely. He'd gotten used to not feeling like death in the past month, though maybe he shouldn't have. But Koenma had told him that the Bonding, while it would take time- and lots of it, was well underway. He'd told Ryou that the symptoms he had been experiencing the last few months were supposed to fade away as the Bond grew stronger.

And yet...

"Are you well?" Ryou blinked. Kurama was speaking to him, though Ryou wasn't sure how long he'd been speaking to him.

"Ah... yes. Why do you ask?" he said politely, forcing a little smile on his face and hoping that it stuck long enough to seem genuine.

"Well, you are shaking, for one. Have been for some time, since before we left the Order I believe." Kurama seemed amused and not entirely convinced by neither Ryou's answer or the smile that was still pasted to his face.

Ryou's smile faltered. He didn't have the energy to keep up appearances. However, Kurama continued before he could formulate an honest answer, "If it has to do with the magical energy that we encountered at the Order, you aren't the only one to feel its affects. Though," he continued, looking thoughtful, "it does appear to be affecting you much more deeply. Perhaps because you do not yet know how to block it out."

Ryou looked away and kept walking, not entirely sure of how to respond to this. Kurama kept his pace perfectly and not going any faster or slower than he was capable of at that point. Meaning that they were far behind the rest of the group.

How embarrassing.

But he was grateful for the act of companionship. And perhaps, just perhaps, he'd been exaggerating a bit when he'd thought that the walk was a mile or two because, according to his wrist watch, they'd only been walking for fifteen minutes when they reached a rather large gate that was seemingly padlocked. As Dumbledore rather unceremoniously pulled out a normal-enough looking key (though Ryou was sure that it had some sort of Secret Magical Capabilities) and unlocked the gate, the door swung open as if by their own accord and his wrist watch promptly stopped working at exactly twelve AM. The witching hour.

Ryou wasn't surprised.

**~.~.~**

The castle was very magical, but Kurama had seen better. There were multiple places comparable in grandiosity in Demon World as well as in the monuments and temples of old. But that didn't stop him from enjoying the view. The prolific thief in him wondered how many things of value Hogwarts held inside its walls. How many treasures were awaiting him in that large stone fortress?

He stopped the train of thought in its tracks. Stealing was fun, but maybe it might be best, for now, to refrain from it until he knew about all of the castles' secrets. He was rather rusty.

They walked right in through the front door. The entrance hall was as grand as expected. There were suits of armor punctuating every corner of the place, paintings on every wall. Kurama was sure that the rest of the castle was equally as well-decorated.

"I'm sure that you are all absolutely exhausted. I shall lead you to your rooms; we may leave the details of your stay to another day. I shall have the House Elves send up your dinner trays if you would like a warm meal before you retire. Breakfast is in the Great Hall from seven to nine AM." Dumbledore informed. He then continued as the group followed him up the stairs, "Ah, yes, and remember to watch the stairs. They like to move around rather frequently."

Just then, the staircase did as the Headmaster said it would- the stairs above them seemingly moved to one of the four corridors on that floor on their own accord.

Fascinating. Stealing from this place would be a challenge: it was as though the entire castle were alive and breathing, its eyes were everywhere. This was old magic.

When Dumbledore reached the seventh floor, he turned off of the staircase and onto the corridor on the left. Before long, he stopped before a rather large tapestry that had many patterns and Japanese writing embroidered onto it stylistically, reading an old proverb: "Those who are smart hide their claws."

"Password?" The tapestry asked. Kurama blinked in surprise. Yes, the portraits on the walls were able to move and speak and, seemingly, to snore, but sentient tapestries? Was that really necessary?

Completely unperturbed, Dumbledore answered, "Many truths."

The tapestry didn't speak again, instead choosing to roll itself up to reveal a doorway.

_"I hope that you all find the rooms here to your liking." _Dumbledore spoke in Japanese for the first time since they'd arrived in Europe, "_Have a lovely night. Your trays will be up shortly_!"

And with that, he left the room and closed the door behind him. Kurama didn't bother reminding him that it was technically around four PM in Japan and that didn't exactly constitute as bedtime, instead surveying the room.

Sparse, but clean, the furnishings were simple and old-fashioned. There were multiple couches and a loveseat, all placed conveniently in front of a warm, roaring fire. The decorations were less extravagant than in the corridors and the rooms were, seemingly, behind a door on the right side of the room. The bathroom was behind a door on the right.

Bakura headed straight for the bedrooms, not even bothering to look around or say goodnight and Yusuke, looking disgruntled, plopped himself down on the sofa closest to the fire and stared into the flames. As for Kurama? Well, he went to the bedrooms, which were really just a large dormitory set with one, two... five beds, all rather plain but with curtains around each one for privacy, to get some things out of his luggage. He'd packed very well for this particular venture. He grabbed the few things that he needed and then, quietly so as not to wake the most likely sleeping Bakura, he closed his suitcase and left the room.

Hiei was waiting for him on the other side of the door, impatient.

"Are you ready, then?" Kurama asked.

Hiei turned and stalked out of the living room and back into the corridor beyond without bothering to answer and Kurama followed, vaguely amused.

They had work to do.

.

Upon further exploration of the castle, Kurama was surprised to find that the wards and protections surrounding the place were surprisingly thorough. Not _Makai _thorough, nor Genkai's temple thorough, but acceptable.

The castle was alive, after all. Maybe it wasn't all that surprising.

Still, more wards were needed. Kurama had noted a varying assortment of secret passages and tunnels that were mostly- but not entirely- unused, throughout the school. Hundreds, perhaps. These were both a hindrance and a help- a few of the tunnels seemed to lead outside. Quite convenient for an easy getaway, yes, but that meant that they also could lead an outsider _inside_.

He wasn't sure of how long he and Hiei had been out, but he could see identify the telltale signs of an incoming sunrise from the set of windows in the dormitory. He'd been awake long enough, he could finish worrying over wards when he'd gotten some rest.

And so Kurama grabbed a pair of pajamas from his luggage, put them on, and gracefully plopped onto what was his new bed in what was his new bedroom to take a long, deserved nap.

**.~.~.**

Molly jumped lightly when she heard the sharp knocking at the door. She'd expected Dumbledore to drop by at any moment, but she was quite rattled in light of recent events.

She went to the door, wand drawn, and asked for his password. Upon hearing his correct reply and password request (which she answered correctly), she finally opened the door, smiling.

"Would you like some tea, Albus?" she asked, partially out of hospitality and partially as a way to busy herself, turning the kettle on with a soft flick of her wand.

"Thank you very much, Molly, I'd love a cup." before he'd even answered, a teacup and saucer flew from the air accompanied by a small sandwhich tray and a small pot of sugar- what kind of homemaker would she be if she couldn't at least do that much for a guest?

She smiled lightly, "You're very welcome." she then stood up, already preparing to make her journey up the stairs, "I expect that you've come to speak to Harry?" she asked hopefully.

"Ah, actually I came to speak to all of the children! Please, invite Ginny to join in as well."

Molly deflated.

"I'd prefer that they be prepared for what awaits them at Hogwarts, this year. It will take quite a bit of adjusting, I expect, what with the guests we've invited!"

"I quite understand. I'll go fetch them now." she tried to keep the worry out of her voice. This wasn't a conversation that she looked forward to thinking about; the danger of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was quite enough without the added stress of random, _dangerous_ children about, thank you very much.

Once upstairs, she found all of the children in the house rather quickly, telling them all to come downstairs. When asked why, she simply said, "Dumbledore needs to see everyone, he has some important news. And no, no, Fleur, it's perfectly fine if you'd like to stay up here-"

And with Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione in tow, she quickly went back downstairs, perfectly happy with busying herself once more with anything but the subject that was about to be discussed.

...However, it wasn't a particularly large house that she lived in. Sounds carried and, no matter how much she wanted to not listen, she found it rather difficult to block out what was being said entirely.

When Dumbledore left, he left a group of teenagers sitting in the living room silently, looking troubled. Molly smiled, bade him a warm farewell, and locked the door behind him. She smiled again, speaking to no one in particular but projecting her voice enough that she knew everyone could hear her, "Now, who wants lunch?"

They brightened instantly and she left them, still smiling, to make the food that she'd promised. When she was sure that she was out of their view, the smile dropped as if it'd never been there. Listening to Dumbledore speak about the subject at hand made her fingers tremble just a bit at recollection of the Order meeting the night before. The representatives had been so young.

They were still children- perhaps not even older than Fred or George. They may've been legally of age, but they were still _child_ren. They had families at home. Mothers and fathers and brothers and sisters. And they were so far away from what was home to them.

They were too young to have such knowing eyes, too young to be as dangerous as everyone seemed to think and too young to have been sent to England by their government and too young to be in this war.

What could their mothers be feeling, knowing that their children were out there fighting a war that shouldn't have been theirs and seeing things that people who'd been alive decades shouldn't see? Were they spending every minute of every day worrying, wishing, wondering?

She wouldn't wish that desolation and fear on anyone.

And once again, Molly Weasley found herself facing the fact that children could no longer be children in this war.

But hopefully, with time, children would be children once again and the sun would go on shining and she wouldn't have to ask for passwords before opening her own front door. Hopefully, with time, everything would be all right.

She just had to wait.

.

Harry hadn't been surprised when Mrs. Weasley had come upstairs and called everyone down. He'd known that Dumbledore was coming to discuss certain events with everyone in the household who was returning to Hogwarts.

"Hello, Professor Dumbledore." he greeted, sitting himself down on the sofa next to the professor. Soon, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had also squeezed themselves on next to him. The couch was rather small and only meant for around two people at a time. Having four nearly grown adolescents crammed together on a couch was, well, uncomfortable.

Noticing everyone's discomfort (Ron was blushing a deep red as Hermione was nearly sitting in his lap, Ginny was half-sitting on one of the arms and Harry was crammed to the side), Dumbledore pointed his wand at the sofa. It doubled in size immediately.

Once everyone had settled down properly (Ron was blushing a very nice shade of rose pink now, but it was fading quickly), Dumbledore began to speak, "I assume that you were all told that I would be coming to discuss recent events with all of you."

When no one replied, he continued, "In light of Voldemort's return, I've had a discussion with the new Minister of Magic. As I'm sure that you all know due to the Daily Profit being unable to keep anything private, you might know that Rufus and I have been... disagreeing on some things. However, Scrimgeour and I have decided to let go of our differences and make an agreement."

Harry was listening very intently now, this was something that he'd been wondering about all summer, "What kind of agreement, Professor?"

"Well, Harry, we've decided to bring in some outside forces. We had them sign a Treaty and everything, so many political barriers..."

Outside forces? Treaty? Political barriers? But before he could ask, Dumbledore was answering his question, "We contacted the Ishtar family from Egypt... and the Japanese."

"Professor Dumbledore," Hermione joined the conversation, looking contemplative; you could almost see the cogs in her brain working, "Isn't there a Magic school in Japan or near? Why would you need to ask them to sign a Treaty? That's usually used in or after a feud or war... unless-"

Dumbledore interrupted before she could finish, "As you may know, Miss Granger, the children at the Imperial School of Magic are made to sign a form at the beginning of their magical training promising that they will not delve into the older magics originating in their countries. Do you know why this is?"

Hermione blinked, "Isn't it because the barriers between the worlds are thinner in the East, Professor? The barriers are thinner, which means that Japan is closer to what would be considered Hell, which means that the magics diverge more with Dark Magic. And because of Dark Magic being what it is, of course they shouldn't delve into it... at least, that's what all of the texts that I've read said about the subject..."

"You are correct. However, because the barriers are thinner in Japan, Hell isn't the only thing that they are closer to than the rest of us. They're closer to Heaven, as well. One of the reasons why the students there are taught to avoid the older magics originating in their countries is because the older, uncontained magics can be dangerous or even deadly." said Dumbledore.

He then continued, "Many witches and wizards in Japan and all over the East, as well as in places such as South America and Africa, however, do not accept that they aren't allowed to practice their native magics. Considering that most forms of modern magic are the ancestors of older magics and therefore much less powerful, these practitioners find it rather unfair that they aren't allowed to practice the forms of magic that they were born to posses. Which is, of course, quite understandable."

"As one can guess, the magical communities that oppose these views are very strict about what is 'good' and what is 'evil'. And within good reason! Many of the older magics are dangerous, unpredictable, and very much amoral. These magics are not picky about who is taught them, they only care about who is powerful enough to wield them. The way that these forms of magic are used is, because of this, up to the practitioner. And if the practitioner happens to have morals that aren't quite as strict as what they should be, well..."

"The magic can spin out of control." Hermione breathed, eyes wide with revelation.

"In a word, yes. Which is why students in the East, as well as students in Africa and South America, are told to promise to never, ever delve into their native magics. If they do so, they are cast out of magical society and watched very closely so that they may never again return."

"Sir," Harry interrupted, thoroughly confused now, "What does this have to do with the deal that you made with the Minister?"

"Well, Harry, I am old friends with some of the people who decided that modern magic wasn't enough for them. We've asked for their return..."

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><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**How long has it been since I've written a real chapter? A year? Eleven months? Either way, that's a very long time to leave a story. I apologize. The last year's seemed to have taken me for quite a ride. **

**I'm rereading HP and the Half Blood prince right now, plotting as I go, so perhaps more chapters shall be out ****soon? One can hope. In the mean time- please review! This story is my Child. I'd love some feedback.**

**I've edited the prologue and chapter one of this story, mostly for grammar and syntax. A few of the scenes are a bit different, though, if you fancy a reread!**

**Best, **

**starisfairy**


	12. Chapter XI

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh!, Yu Yu Hakusho, or Harry Potter. I am merely a devoted fan with an after-story monster thing. All rights reserved.

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><p><strong>.~.~.<strong>

**XI**

**.~.~.**

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><p>The hour was late.<p>

Harry wasn't sure of how late, but the stars were out and so was the moon. Everyone in the house was in their rooms other than Mrs. Weasley, whom he was sure was downstairs awaiting her husbands return from his work at the Ministry. She'd been doing that a lot, recently; staying up until the wee hours of the morning to wait for the man who she wasn't sure was going to come home at all.

Harry was up for other reasons.

Before Ron and Hermione had retired to their rooms, they'd been discussing, in hushed whispers, what they'd learned from Dumbledore that afternoon. Hermione seemed to understand the whole situation, but she also seemed anxious about it, and Ron seemed to trust the Headmaster's judgement.

Harry was still having trouble getting his mind around it.

Why would Dumbledore allow someone who was so untrustworthy into Hogwarts?

In retrospect, Harry wasn't surprised. Dumbledore did have a habit of trusting people who didn't really seem very trustworthy. Snape was an example of this.

But at least Snape, as much of a slimy git as he was, was someone who Dumbledore could watch. He wasn't all that powerful, not really at least. No more than any other full-grown wizard at least. Maybe twice as nasty than the typical wizard, but still powerless compared to Dumbledore himself or even Voldemort.

Judging from what Dumbledore had said, though...

Ancient Magics were powerful, extremely so, and seemingly rather Dark. Harry knew a lot about Defense Against the Dark Arts; it was his best subject- but he'd never learned too much about older magics other than various charms and spells that were derived for them. They didn't teach much about them in History of Magic, and ancient spells were only occasionally mentioned in his other courses at Hogwarts- usually when one of the teachers were explaining where one spell or another came from. The teachers rarely, if ever, delved into magics that hadn't originated in Europe even then.

Demons were never mentioned in anything other than, perhaps occasionally, Defense Against the Dark Arts, but that was also very, very rare. After all, hadn't Demon World been sealed away centuries before? Very few demons were able to come to the Human World. If they were able, it was due to summoning.

And if Japan was more closely connected to the Demon World, more intertwined with it... didn't that make the ancient practitioners there worse than Voldemort?

Dumbledore himself had told them to exercise caution among the newcomers. They were to treat them with respect, and- Dumbledore had left this unvoiced, only his tone had been an indicator- fear.

But if Dumbledore believed that the foreign recruits were something to be feared, where did that leave the rest of them?

Harry wasn't entirely sure, and neither was Hermione or Ron or, from what Harry'd seen of Mrs. Weasley's less than composed reaction to Dumbledore's visit, anyone else. And that scared him possibly even more than Voldemort himself.

But guessed that he'd just have to trust Dumbledore's judgement. After all, he was one of the greatest wizards that had ever lived, wasnt he? He knew what he was doing. Nighttime thoughts of doomsday weren't the best ingredient in the recipe for good dreams anyway.

Things would make more sense in the morning. They always did.

Harry closed his eyes, emptied his mind of the worries of the day, and went to sleep.

**.~.~.**

"All."

"_Aru._"

"_No, no, Yuusuke_, "all" _as in _"ball"."

"_Aru." _

They'd been working on pronunciation for two hours.

Kurama considered himself a patient creature. After all, he'd been alive a very long time. One does not survive for roughly three thousand years without patience, and lots of it. Right now, however, his patience was running short.

"_How do you expect to survive in a school full of adolescent humans with magical abilities without at least speaking the same language as them?"_

"_Ano... I'm not sure... the same way I survived junior high?"_

Kurama deadpanned, "_Yuusuke. You got hit by a car in your second to last year of junior high school and died._"

"_Well, yeah, when you put it that way...!_"

He wasn't entirely sure whether he wanted to laugh at Yuusuke's hard head or throw the _British English: The Easy Way _manual at it in a fit of childishness- his inner Shuuichi had voted for the second option. Instead of doing either, however, he allowed himself to let out a small, defeated sigh. If he couldn't get Yuusuke to learn from want of knowledge, then at least he could try and guilt him into it.

It didn't work.

"_Fool. You're testing the fox's patience." _Hiei had strutted in an hour before, clearly bored with exploring every nook and cranny of the castle without Kurama's company- he'd flat-out refused to even try learning English when Kurama had oh-so-politely suggested it to him.

Kurama had been pointedly ignoring him up until now because of this, "_Hiei, don't even try and lecture Yuusuke right now. It would be hypocritical_."

And with that, he stood up with all of the stiffness of a study session and none of the knowledge acquired and tried not to stalk out of the room like a ruffled cat. That was Hiei's job, and Hiei's alone.

**.~.~.**

"Sir, I've ferried my quota of souls to Spirit World for the day."

Koenma looked up. He hadn't even noticed Botan come in, as he'd been absorbed in reading manga- ahem, doing _paperwork_.

He coughed, clearing his throat, "Ah, hello Botan. If you have the spare time, could you, perhaps, take on a few spare cases? Human World is starting to become too much to handle for just the ferry girls what with Voldemort running rampant- I can't even get good coffee! George's coffee just isn't the same, you see. " he sighed in a long-suffering fashion, "And Father just isn't willing to give me the special privileges that he used to! I barely have any authority around here anymore-"

"Of course! I have a lot of time to spare. I'll go pick up case files on my way out." Botan put her hand on the handle, poised to leave. Then she hesitated, "Koenma sir... ah... can I speak to you for a moment?"

"What is it?" Koenma tried his best to not sound too impatient- his paperwork was awaiting him... he had so much to read- erm, _stamp. _Many unsolved casefiles made their way onto his desk, you see. It was a wonder that he was able to keep up with itall...

"It's about Yuusuke," she blurted, fiddling with her kimono just a little too much, "The entire team dispatched to Europe, actually. Are you sure that they'll be okay on their own?" she paused, "You know how unpredictable Yuusuke can be, not to mention Hiei. What if he forgets to play human and alerts to entire school to the fact that demons are working for the Japanese government? Who knows what the consequences of that can be! And do we even know the full extent of Bakura Ryou's abilities? What, with his track record-"

She was babbling now. Koenma put up a hand to shut her up, "Botan, _Botan, slow down_. I fully understand your concerns, but we currently can't afford to send anyone out to keep them in check. They'll simply have to figure it out on their own. Yusuke's an adult now, he should be able to control himself-"

"-I could go!" Botan interrupted, her fingers still twisting around the pink fabric of her kimono feverishly, "Why, I could even pick up extra souls along the way! Please sir," she looked at Koenma pleadingly, "What if they need our help? It could be just like the good old days!"

Koenma sighed, "I see that you've been thinking this over quite a bit, Botan. If you wanted to go you could've asked sooner. I mean, I'd have to pull a few strings and talk to Father about it, but I'm sure that something could be worked out-"

"Thank you so much! I'll do everything that I can to be as useful as possible! Goodness," she was beaming, if it'd been an anime she'd have been bouncing up and down by now, "I could hug you."

"You'd think you'd know my feelings on public displays of affection by now, Botan. Or rather, my disgust. Big no, no in my book." Koenma crossed his arms against his chest seriously, shaking his head, "But all jokes and positivity aside, it'll be quite difficult to talk my father into letting you work with them once more. You know his feelings on the subject. Why, he'll think we're conspiring against him! You owe me one, Botan. Also, the book hidden behind my stack paperwork that you may've possibly seen when you so unceremoniously entered the room certainly does not exist. And if it does exist, it isn't something that needs to be mentioned to anyone."

He looked at her pointedly with this, and she winked, "Why, of course sir! Thank you so much!"

And with that she left the room, practically flying without her paddle to do it for her to, hopefully, get more case reports to add to her workload for the day.

The moment Koenma was sure that she was gone, he grabbed the manga volume that he had hidden behind the huge stack of paperwork awaiting him on his desk- a demigod's gotta keep busy, you know, and promptly opened it up to the page that he'd left off at.

No one'd ever have to know. _Especially_ if Botan kept her promise.

**.~.~.**

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note:<strong>

**I know that I spelled Yuusuke's name differently in this chapter- most fics, as well as the English dub, spell his name as 'Yusuke'. However, because adding the extra 'u' is seemingly more accurate when you want to stick more to the original Japanese storyline. I prefer to try and stay as close to how the original Japanese intended as a rule. One may also note that I spell Ryou Bakura/Bakura Ryou as 'Ryou' rather than 'Ryo' and Yuugi Mutou/Mutou Yuugi as 'Yuugi' rather than 'Yugi'. I'm not sure how to make accent marks on a keyboard and it's just more convenient overall to add an extra 'u' rather than an accent mark over the 'u', so it seemed best for me to spell the names as I do. I intend to edit previous chapters to make sure that I don't have inconsistences in name spelliing throughout the story.**

**On a similar note, I spell Malik/Marik's name as 'Malik' as a rule. This is partially due to the way it's pronounced in the Japanese canon and partially due to cultural accuracy. From what I know, 'Marik' isn't a name that's very commonly used in Arabic. Malik, however, is. This is also why I spell Isis/Ishizu's name as 'Isis' rather than 'Ishizu'. **

**As one can gather, I'm quite the pedant. :P**

**This is kind of short, I know. It seemed like a good place to end it. It is a little more bright than previous chapters, though! I'm working on learning how to write filler space and character interactions rather than just plot, plot, plot- because stories are more than just getting to the point, you know?**

**Anyway, I'm not sure when I'll finish chapter twelve, but I'll try my best to start it soon! I'm so happy that I'm getting back into writing. I can only hope that I haven't lost my spark!**

**Questions, comments, and constructive criticism are appreciated, but please don't flame or put random anon reviews that have nothing to do with the story in my review count! One of the three reviews that I got last chapter was completely pointless and I had to delete it. It was rather disappointing, actually, but I guess I'll survive. :) Thanks to all of the non-flamers who did review! Your support is appreciated.**

**Wish me luck, **

**starisfairy**


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